Kissing You Was Always Inevitable
by sleeplessinatlanta
Summary: Ever wondered in how many different ways and under what circumstances Booth and Brennan would have their first real kiss? Collection of one shots exploring exactly all the different scenarios until it finally happened. COMPLETE.
1. Black Tie Affair

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

All right, here we go. Collection of one-shots all about B/B's first non-coerced kiss. I'm open to taking this wherever, so let me know what you think! If this is not very interesting, that's totally cool, I will go back to smut, but just thought I try this :)

**Black-Tie Affair**

**

* * *

**  
She was so tired.

He could tell by the way she kept bringing her hand up to massage the back of her neck. Booth knew she was ready to drop so when he saw her slip out of the crowded ballroom, he followed her.

She never failed to amaze him. They'd just closed a grueling case, she'd been identifying remains all day long, and now she was here, looking so beautiful it was almost unfair, and getting donors to open up their checkbooks and do it with a big fat smile.

His stomach clenched as he looked at her from the shadowy entry-way, her eyes seemed slightly dazed as she looked around the open terrace. The glow of the moonlight was bathing her skin and giving her a fragile air that was so deceptive. Because Booth knew that, though she looked like a fairy-tale princess in her ball gown, she could kick your ass without blinking twice.

"Bones," he whispered softly, stepping out of the shadows. "What are you looking for?"

"Booth," she smiled at him. "I'm looking for a damn bench. Why is there no place to sit out here?"

"There are chairs inside, Bones," he reminded her and couldn't help smiling at the grumpy tone of her voice.

"And there are also people," she noted reasonably. "I wanted to find a place to sit away from everyone."

"Oh, I see." Booth started backing away. "I'm sorry, I'll see you later."

"What?" Brennan's eyes widened at his words. "No, Booth … I didn't mean you. I meant everyone else."

"You are not people," she clarified. "You are my partner."

"Huh, good to know there's a difference." Booth smiled brilliantly. Damn, for someone who so often said the wrong thing, how did she so often manage to say the precisely right thing to make his head spin?

"You are tired, huh?" he asked walking toward her and seeing the way she rubbed her neck again.

"Oh, Booth, you have no idea," she almost whimpered. "I don't even know how I'm still standing up."

"Poor Bones," he said softly, taking her by the hand. "Come here."

She was so tired, Brennan didn't even protest as he dragged her along, she just followed him as he walked them to one of the rails fencing in the terrace.

But she gasped softly in surprise as he splayed his hands on her waist and lifted her up onto the rail.

It wasn't comfortable and she was perched unsteadily on it, but at least she was off her feet.

"Thank-you," she said. "But don't let go, I swear I'm going to fall."

"I'm not going to let you fall, Bones," he promised. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Well, Booth, this isn't ice-skating," she responded reasonably. "Do you see how unsteady this is?"

"I've got you," his whispered words raced through her and she unconsciously made space for him between her legs.

Booth didn't know whether it was the moonlight, the quiet, or maybe the fact that he'd been dreaming of this for so long but he was helpless not to step closer to her.

Her gown was getting crushed, but her legs wrapped around him of their own volition and bracing her hands on his tuxedo-clad chest she looked down into his eyes.

Booth ran his own hands from her waist up her back, gasping softly at the feel of silky bare skin. He felt hypnotized by the feel of her, the scent of her perfume, her soft, soft lips so close to him. Everything was wrapping around him and playing havoc with his will-power.

"Bones … " he whispered, thinking that maybe the sound would bring them back to their senses. But, oh god, he didn't want to come back to his senses and whispering her name had somehow only managed to bring his lips closer to her.

"Booth … " she breathed his name against his lips and he knew the only thing that made sense was this.

He kept his eyes open as he brushed his lips against hers once and then again. She parted them slightly and he traced his tongue across her bottom lip. The soft sound she made actually made him dizzy and he finally closed his eyes as he opened his mouth on hers.

Brennan gripped his lapels just as she'd done under the mistletoe but this time she didn't have to worry about anyone standing right in front of them. So she opened her mouth now and touched her tongue to his, just like she'd wanted to do then.

Booth had no idea how long he stood there kissing his partner because, the moment he tasted her, he lost all sense of reality. His hands caressed her back and his tongue explored her mouth ravenously.

_Oh, Bones, no going back now_, he thought gleefully.

"No going back now, Booth," she whispered against his lips.

And even the air crackled with electricity when his mouth captured hers again on a blissful sigh.


	2. No Holding Back

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

It's late so if there are any typos, please let me know so I can fix them. This is a lot different from the first one so I hope u still like! I know not everyone loves Sweets but I personally have a soft spot for him. Even though he made me angry in the season premiere, argh! Let me know what you think :)

**No Holding Back  


* * *

**

_Great._ _Just great._

One look at them as they entered his office and Dr. Lance Sweets realized the session was likely going to be worthless. It was usually an uphill battle with the two of them most of the time, but when they walked in sulky and tense, it was pretty hopeless. Ironically, though the times when they were upset would be the most opportune for therapeutic assistance, it was during those times that they closed ranks most effectively. When pissed and upset, they would present a united front, refusing to discuss anything they feared could get them separated.

Sweets bit back a frustrated sigh. Didn't they know by now, he wouldn't do that to them? For one thing, Agent Booth would kill him. But more importantly, it would destroy something that even he could see was way too fantastic.

He settled back to study them as they sat on opposite ends of the couch.

"Is there anything in particular you would like to discuss?" he invited. "Agent Booth? Doctor Brennan?" They looked at him with equally bland expressions and a near identical shake of their heads.

_Fine._ They weren't going to cooperate. Big surprise there. But they'd been his patients for a long time. He studied them, he learned them, he knew them better than they might realize.

As he stared at them, he tried to see past the relaxed, unperturbed air they were trying to project. They were pretty good at it, he had to admit, but he was pretty good at his job too.

Dr. Brennan had the kind of tense look on her face that usually indicated they had argued about something and he'd just refused to accept her undoubtedly reasonable argument.

And Agent Booth couldn't stop a slight frown as he tried to prevent himself from looking at her. His mouth was drawn in a tight line and Sweets was pretty sure the argument had made him downright irritated. But interestingly enough, he also looked dejected.

Which meant that either she was going out of town for some extended length of time and had just told him or …

"Dr. Brennan, would you care to discuss your date tonight?" He bit back his smile at the identical jerks of their shoulders.

"What? How do you know I have a date tonight?" she asked, her voice indicating she was completely shocked by what she perceived to be quite a random guess. It was clear the possibility that the degrees on his wall might have contributed to the accuracy of his question never even crossed her mind.

"Mega training in psychology, Dr. Brennan," he reminded her resignedly. "Now, why don't you tell me why your plans for tonight have caused a disagreement between yourself and Agent Booth?"

_Other than the fact that it's probably driving him crazy,_ he thought but wisely kept it to himself.

"Look, kid, none of your damn …"

"No, Booth," she interrupted with her customary rationality. "As an impartial third party, I think Dr. Sweets is well qualified to offer an opinion on the irrationality of …"

But it was clear Agent Booth had heard enough.

"Irrationality?" he interrupted on an outraged hiss, jumping up from the couch and glaring at her.

"I don't think it's irrational to want to protect my partner by running a simple background check on her date." He wanted to stay calm, but Sweets could tell he was struggling to do so. "Her blind date," he added. "Especially when my partner is you, Bones."

"What does that mean?" she asked defensively because she knew where he was going with that.

"It means that with your track record that man could very well be a complete and total psycho." Turning to Sweets with an aggrieved look, he declared, "She doesn't even want to tell me where they are going."

It was with some surprise that Sweets realized the normally composed Dr. Brennan was also getting agitated as she too jumped up from the couch to glare back at her partner.

"He's not a psycho. Angela set me up with this man," she argued.

"Yeah and as much as I love Angela that fact doesn't exactly inspire confidence either," he scoffed. "Look, just tell me his name and where he's taking you and all I'll …"

"No!" she said vehemently and there was a look in her eyes that said she'd had enough. "You'll run him, you'll find some excuse to interrupt us, and you'll interrogate and terrify him, just like you did to the last two."

"What?" he clearly disagreed with her assessment. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did." she said agitatedly, turning to pace a little and then whirling back to face him. "It's not fair, Booth!"

"It's not goddamn fair," she repeated, and the intensity in her voice made Sweets hold his breath. "You don't want me, but you don't want anyone else to have me either."

_Whoa! Did not see that coming. _He looked at Agent Booth who seemed frozen in shock, his eyes dilating as he absorbed her words.

"_Are you out of your damn mind?" _His stunned question was clearly rhetorical because without giving her a chance to answer he walked three steps and moved in front of her.

"You _are_ out of your mind," he whispered. "Let me show you something," he added darkly, tangling his fingers in her hair and crushing his mouth to hers between one breath and the next.

_Holy cow!_ He was pretty sure his eyes were bugging out of his head. It was clear they'd both forgotten they were not alone in the room and Sweets could only watch in utter shock as Agent Booth devoured his partner's mouth.

Dr. Brennan didn't even hesitate as she wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth on his.

_Oh my god_, he could actually feel the heat from across the room. He couldn't help but gasp at the way they were kissing each other, all sizzling heat and desperate hunger.

He knew he had to leave, because as passionate as the kiss was, it was also intimate and he couldn't watch anymore.

He walked out closing the door softly and exhaling in unabated shock.

Well, one thing was for sure; that was one definitively-settled argument.

No way to argue against what you just can't hold back anymore.


	3. Friday Night Realizations

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

This is a very dirty first kiss, accordingly this has been moved to the M section. Many of them will still be T so don't be too upset if you don't like the M section. Let me know what you think!

**Friday Night Realizations  


* * *

**

_  
This is what Hell must be like_, Booth mused as he took a sip of his beer. He was praying to wake up tomorrow with all his senses intact; especially hearing, because going deaf was a definite possibility here.

"Isn't this great?" Angela screamed in excitement as she approached the table flushed and sweaty from her exertions on the dance floor. "Okay, you two, it is Friday night! Fun must be had tonight, I demand it."

Placing her hands on her hips, she ordered, "Booth, go take Bren for a spin on the dance floor."

"Angela, I really don't think that's feasible," Brennan screamed back. "Every inch of this place is full of bodies, how can another body possibly squeeze through?"

"There's always space!" Angela was not giving up. "That's the fun, anyway." Turning her determined gaze on Booth she yelled over the pounding music, "Come on, Booth, you guys promised to have fun but you've been sitting there lifeless all night!"

"Let's go dance, Bones," Booth said on a resigned sigh, pulling his partner by the hand. He felt a little guilty because they _had _promised Angela and he'd been grumpy all night.

"Are we leaving?" Brennan leaned close to him and whispered the question in his ear so as to be heard above the music.

"No, Bones!" Booth said, walking around the edge of the dance floor to find a place not already occupied. "We promised Angela, we are going to follow through."

They pushed through the throng of frenzied dancers, until finally Booth gave up, realizing they weren't going to find any kind of space in the crowded floor. So he just stopped and placed his arms around her and swayed, even though the music was a rapid, pounding beat not really geared for slow dancing.

"This is how we are dancing?" she inquired, wrapping her arms around his waist. But she didn't really care, because it was so dark, loud, and crowded that she could press close to him and rest her head on his shoulder without worrying about the consequences.

"Yeah," he answered, realizing quickly this may not have been his brightest idea. "There's really no space to do anything else." _Oh, he had definitely not thought this through._

He could feel her breath on the skin of his neck, and in the jam-packed club, she was pressed flush to every inch of him. Her inexplicably alluring scent assaulted his senses and he went dizzy. His hands automatically rubbed softly up and down her back and he almost thought he felt her lips brush his throat.

_Oh damn, this is what Heaven must be like_, he thought dazedly. His arms tightened automatically around her as they were jostled by the frenzied crowd of people dancing around them. And Booth realized this was bad, oh such a bad idea, because this close together there was no way to hide his body's reaction to her. Every movement of the crowd would rub her against him and he was growing so hard under his jeans.

_This was so embarrassing_. Because she had to realize how aroused he was, she had to feel him pressing, so very hard and ready, right between her legs. He was driving himself crazy with his thoughts when suddenly they were shoved hard and sent crashing into the wall a few feet behind them.

Booth automatically braced his hands on the wall on either side of her face so as to lessen the impact of his body crushing her. He leaned his head into her to ask if she was okay when her body arched into him and she moaned; the sound audible even with the pounding music because her lips were right next to his ear.

He froze, wondering if that incredibly erotic sound had really come out of her. He couldn't discern her expression but her fingers dug into his back and her body undulated slightly under him. His hips crashed forward of their own volition, grinding her into the wall. And this time he felt her lips press against the side of his neck and her moan vibrate on his skin.

Booth was pretty sure grinding his partner in a dance club was utterly unacceptable but he was pretty sure he didn't care. Because his hands were now gripping her hips as he hammered her against the wall.

Her legs wrapped around him and he buried his face against her throat, trying not to lose his mind.

"More," she whispered huskily against him and now it was him who couldn't help moaning against her.

"Harder," Brennan panted, making him crazed and he bit her neck, grinding harder into her. "Oh yes," she breathed, his denim-covered erection hitting her cleft perfectly, even through the thin material of her slacks. "You are going to make me come."

"_Bones_," his strained voice was barely audible even though he was speaking right into her ear. "This isn't right. We've never even kissed."

"Yes, we have," she quickly argued, tightening her legs and arms around him, worried that his misplaced sense of propriety would make him stop.

But she didn't have to worry; not even a freight train would have stopped him from making her come. He'd been trying to let her know he was going to kiss her, but as usual, subtlety was lost on her.

"No, Bones, _that_ was coercion," Booth explained, licking a trail up to her lips. "_This_ is a kiss."

And he captured her mouth with his, groaning at the taste of her. His fingers dug into her hips and he pistoned into her desperately as he ate her alive. The noise, the crowd, everything disappeared but for her; gripping him between her legs and moaning into his mouth.

He stroked her tongue with his own in the hottest, wettest kiss imaginable. And as his tongue mimicked the motion of their bodies, she jerked against him, her body convulsing under him. Brennan threaded her fingers in his hair and kissed him savagely, sucking on his tongue until she felt him go over the edge too.

"_Shit,_" Booth gasped as he came in his jeans. "_Fucking unbelievable_."

"You taste so incredibly good," she told him as she nuzzled his neck.

Booth wrapped his arms around her, still stunned. Only one thought running through his dazed mind as he held her tight.

_Oh Fuck, Bones, I want to taste you on my lips for the rest of my life. _


	4. Eyes Wide Open

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

Here's to the start of the post-season! I'm a big baseball fan so I loved writing this, but let me know what you think :)

**Eyes Wide Open  


* * *

**

The humidity and heat were atrocious; making it even worse was the sound beating the Nationals were receiving at the hands of the New York Mets.

"They are really quite inept, aren't they?" Brennan commented when the third-baseman dropped his second fly ball of the game.

"Aww, Bones, don't say that," Booth protested loyally, but couldn't help groan at the fourth goddamn error of the game. "Our regular third baseman is on the disabled list, so we have to make do with either a bench player or a minor-league call-up for the next few games."

"Well, they are down by six points, Booth," Brennan noted as if he couldn't see the deficit on the giant scoreboard. "They are really awful."

"Runs, Bones, not points, runs," he explained patiently. "And yeah, they are not great, but they have a minuscule payroll compared with the Mets … argh!" Booth muffled his yell with his hands as the ball sailed into the right-field seats.

"Wow, a home run, Booth!" Brennan turned sparkling eyes on her partner and he melted faster than an ice cream cone exposed to the hot Sunday afternoon.

"Yeah, Bones, that's a grand slam," he said smiling, unable to work up any disgruntlement in the face of her wide-eyed excitement. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes," she said honestly. "It is a simple yet complex game and I find it fascinating how at a moment's notice it can go from passive to electrifying."

"Yeah … electrifying," he echoed, suddenly mesmerized, because everything about her was electrifying _him._ Her sparkling eyes, the tendrils of hair escaping from her high ponytail, the coconut smell of her sun-block, the rise and fall of her chest in that tank top. And most of all, the way she looked just a little bit sweaty and yet oh so lickable. He was pretty sure her skin would taste salty from the heat and damn, he wanted to lick her and find out just how many different flavors he'd be able to taste on that soft skin.

Booth pressed his beer to the side of his face trying to cool himself down. God, getting a hard-on on a Sunday afternoon at the ballpark was just wrong.

The home half of the ninth inning was painful, both for the Nationals and for him. She asked him a few questions which he tried to field as coherently as possible, but his mind was in the gutter refusing to cooperate. Why, oh why had he not realized that taking Bones to an afternoon baseball game would mean a sweaty Bones in tiny shorts and a tiny top? But how could he have guessed that after almost three hours under the sweltering heat she would look like this: so goddamn sexy, so enticingly delicious, so completely fuckable. Just so freaking beautiful.

"Thank-you for bringing me, Booth," she told him, rising from her seat once the last out of the game was recorded.

"My pleasure, Bones," he answered softly, getting up as well and facing her. And before he realized what he was doing, Booth reached out and tucked a wayward curl back behind her ear.

Her eyes opened wide at the intimate gesture but she was shocked speechless when his thumb caressed her cheek gently and he whispered, "You are so beautiful."

Booth wondered vaguely whether the heat had fried his brain, but before he could even think of backtracking, she was pushed right into his arms by the people trying to get out of the row they were now blocking.

Someone grumbled "get a room" as they squeezed past them but Booth could barely hear anything over the beating of his heart. Shit, he was nervous because the moment she was pushed into him, his arms automatically wrapped around her and he knew he wasn't going to backtrack. He was sick and tired of backtracking, and though he was so nervous his hands were nearly shaking, he was going to push forward.

Lowering his head, he brushed a delicate kiss right under her ear before he whispered, "No one should be allowed to be this beautiful every damn second of the day."

Brennan was almost paralyzed in his arms but her eyes closed at the feel of his soft lips and her hands, which she'd used to brace herself once she was shoved into him, were now gripping his sporty T-shirt. Booth trailed his open lips across her jaw, letting the tip of his tongue touch her skin, until he reached the corner of her mouth.

Placing his lips over hers, he forced himself to say, "Bones, look at me." He was tempted, so tempted to close his own eyes, but they were going to do this with eyes wide open. Because once she parted those sensual lips for him, he wouldn't let her backtrack either.

Her blue-green gaze pierced him, captivating him all over again and he traced his tongue softly over her lips, waiting for her to decide. It was only a second but it felt like an eternity before her lips opened and her tongue touched his playfully.

A million different emotions he could barely identify ran through him as he explored her mouth; carefully at first, but increasingly aggressive since she was kissing him back hungrily with every second that ticked by.

Brennan's hands moved up, until her fingers tangled in his hair, and Booth tightened his arms, pressing her closer in response. She didn't close her eyes and neither did he as their mouths moved in synchronized frenzy against each other.

Some people stopped and stared, others whistled and chuckled as they passed by but it was the need for oxygen that finally made them break apart. Booth's head fell back as he gasped for air and Brennan pressed her face against his throat.

"We are coming back to see another game before the season's over, right Booth?" His laugh vibrated against her lips.

"We sure as hell are, Bones," he assured, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and steering her towards the exit.

"Maybe they won't lose as badly next time," Brennan commented hopefully, her own arm going around his waist.

"I like the optimism, Bones," he commended playfully. But as he pressed a soft kiss against her temple, he knew it wouldn't matter how badly they lost, it would still be the best game ever.

God, baseball was never going to be the same after today. He would never be able to think about baseball again without thinking about the taste of her, without remembering the way her lips had opened under his and branded him forever.


	5. Say It Out Loud

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

Enjoy!

**Say It Out Loud  
**

* * *

"Booth!" Brennan practically yelled. "Why are you stopping?"

"Bones, look outside, can you see anything?" Booth pointed out the window at the torrential downpour that made it impossible to drive. The wipers, despite the maximum setting, just could not keep up with the rain.

"Booth," she protested. "My remains are getting compromised!"

"I know, Bones," he sighed. "But our victim's already dead and right now I'm more concerned with keeping us alive."

"The longer we wait …"

"Bones," Booth interrupted before she could start lecturing. "This is not my first day on the job. But I literally cannot see even an inch in front of me right now and I'm not going to risk our lives so forget about it, we are going to wait it out here."

"Fine," she snapped coldly. "But I don't want to hear it when we can't find cause of death, or properly reconstruct …"

"Bones!" Booth's exasperated voice cut through the air. "All right, what the hell's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you've been in a foul mood over the past few days," he accused, turning in his seat to look at her. "You keep snapping and … I don't know," he sighed in frustration. "Are you upset at me or something?"

"Booth …" Brennan closed her eyes and dropped her head against the seat tiredly. "I … I'm sorry, I'm just tired."

"Just tell me what's going on," he cajoled. "Why have you been in such a crappy mood lately?"

"I'm sorry I've been snapping at you," she apologized softly. "You haven't done anything, it's not your fault."

"Well, I'm sure glad to hear that, Bones." Booth let out a relieved sigh and tried his best charm smile. "Come on, talk to me. Maybe I can help you."

Brennan smiled, but there was no humor in it. Oh, he could help her, all right. In fact, she could think of a hundred different ways he could do so and every single one involved _him_ doing the kinds of things to _her_, she could no longer stop thinking about.

"You can't." Brennan answered quickly, trying to stem the flow of inappropriate thoughts running through her mind. When she turned her head towards the window, her measured exhale fogged up the glass a little.

"Hey," he said softly. "Even if I can't help, I can still listen."

"I appreciate it, Booth," she told him, trying to keep her voice even. He was just trying to be nice, but if he kept pushing she might just do something reckless. "But I know how certain topics of conversation make you uncomfortable and I think it's better if we just drop it, okay?"

Booth frowned at his partner. He could see she was tense, her posture rigid and her head angled away from him.

"No, Bones, I'm not going to drop it," he insisted stubbornly. "You are my partner; our conversations don't make me uncomfortable, just …"

"Oh really?" she whipped her head around to look at him without giving him a chance to finish his sentence. "Not even sex, Booth?" She had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen and couldn't help lowering her voice a little as she said, "That's what it's about, Booth. Sex. Do you want to drop it, now?"

"Sex?" he whispered. "Sex is the reason you've been all …" His hand gestured vaguely in the air and she had to admit he'd surprised her. She expected him to back down the minute the word left her mouth, but clearly he still wanted an explanation. "Why?"

_Fine, Booth._ Her eyes narrowed.

"Not so much sex, as the lack of it," she explained, keeping her voice conversational. "You see, Booth, manual stimulation can only really do so much and I will admit my mood is negatively affected when my sexual arousal goes unabated."

Brennan smirked at his suddenly horrified expression, but now she was the one that wasn't backing down. "It has become an increasing problem as masturbation alone is no longer effective. And as Angela so colorfully reminded me yesterday, what I really need is a good, hard fuck." She saw his shoulders jerk at her no longer clinical explanation and her voice went husky as she continued recklessly.

"She's absolutely right, you know," she purred. "I've been aroused so often lately that I just need it hard and fast and just a little rough."

"_Bones_ …" he pleaded, voice barely audible over the pounding of the rain. "_Stop_."

"I don't even want it to be in a bed," she noted, ignoring his strained request. "A bed's too soft and I want everything about it to be hard." Brennan's eyes scanned over his chest down to his lap. _Oh god_, _everything about him was hard._ Moving her gaze up to meet his eyes again she knew he had to be thinking the same thing she was. They both been _thinking_ it for way too long and it was time to say it out loud.

"Booth, I want it so badly, but I only want it with you." Unconsciously, she leaned a little into him as she asked, "Am I the only one feeling this way?"

"God, no," he whispered, leaning into her also, without even realizing it either.

"Am I going to keep waking up aroused and unsatisfied?"

"No." Booth breathed the one word answer right against her parted lips before kissing her senseless. Brennan's little gasp of surprise disappeared inside his mouth and her tongue went crazy on his lips. Her small hands gripped the lapels of his jacket fiercely as she assaulted his tasty mouth.

He tangled one hand in her hair, messing up the neat up-do she wore to keep her hair out of her face, while his other hand cupped her face gently. His thumb dragged back and forth on her skin as his tongue dragged over her top lip. God, he couldn't decide what was hotter; the noises she was making or the way she was eating him alive. She bit his bottom lip and then soothed it with her tongue before releasing his mouth to breathe in some air.

Booth trailed his lips along her cheeks, her jaw, her throat in tiny, hungry kisses and her head fell back, eyes closing ecstatically.

"Are we going to …?" She didn't even have to finish her question.

"Hell yes," he answered, lightning fast, because he sure as hell knew what she was going to ask. Lips pressed against her creamy throat, he whispered, "Hard, fast, rough and every other damn way you want."


	6. All That Is Left

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

Show of hands, who thinks this might be one of the ways they finally lock lips for real on the show? I go back and forth. Anyway, hope you like it!

**All That Is Left  


* * *

**

"If you think about it logically, your only choice is to let me go."

_Oh God, only Bones would try to rationalize with the man holding a knife to her throat._

Booth tried to keep his eyes trained on their suspect, instead of on the way the cold metal seemed to be cutting into her delicate skin.

"I will kill you without blinking if you don't let her go right now." His stomach was churning in sheer panic, but his hands were rock-steady.

"He's killed for me before," she confirmed calmly. "I am quite certain he would do it again without hesitation." Brennan knew the only reason the man was still alive was because he was holding her in front of him and Booth didn't yet have a clear shot at him. "He'll arrest you, but he won't kill you if you just let me go."

"I can't, I can't go to prison!" he sobbed hysterically, the hand holding the knife digging dangerously into her throat. "Get the fuck away from me!"

"I don't know about prison," Booth's voice was pure danger. "But I can promise you that you will die right here unless you drop the knife."

"Even if you are judged for your crime by a jury, conviction is never a certainty," she pointed out reasonably. "But the fact that Agent Booth will kill you if you harm me is quite certain."

"Do you want to die?" Booth tried not to let his voice betray his fear, but he was starting to lose it, because he could see a slight trickle of blood from where the knife was digging into her. The man was a wreck and it was his lack of control that was most scaring Booth. One panicked move, one jerky movement with the hand holding the knife and she would bleed out right in front of his eyes before he could even take his next breath.

The image made his blood run cold, his mouth go dry, and his heart beat erratically in his chest. He locked eyes with her for one millisecond and knew she was planning on doing something reckless.

_No, no, no, no, no_, he prayed frantically, looking for a way, any way, to end this before she did something crazy. He knew she was trying to keep him from ending another life. He knew that she would do whatever she could to stop him from adding one more name to his list. But what she didn't know was that, if necessary, he would double that list in order to keep her alive.

She didn't know he had never, would never regret any of the things he had done to save her life. He would do them all again, over and over; without regret, without hesitation, without thinking about it for even a second.

But she didn't know, she didn't know he would give anything, _do_ anything for just one more day with her. One more day of her.

His finger tensed on the trigger and then relaxed, the way he'd been taught to do so long ago. You always relax your finger before you take the shot, that one perfect shot.

"Let her go," he repeated, but knew the man wasn't going to obey; his eyes had that wild, panicked look that Booth had seen before. It was the kind of look that meant someone was going to die and pressing the trigger Booth made sure that someone was not his partner.

He was dead before he hit the ground, the knife clattering to the floor and making a jarring sound in the sudden stillness of the moment.

"Booth …" she whispered, devastated that he'd had to do this for her, yet again.

"You are bleeding," his voice was hollow as he holstered his gun and looked at her. The thin, thin trickle of blood running down her throat might as well have been an open wound, the way it crashed into him; the image of her bleeding out in front of him impossible to banish.

"I'm sorry," Brennan whispered hoarsely, taking a step toward him. "I didn't want you to have to …"

"I know," and that was all he said before bridging the gap between them and slamming his lips down on hers.

His hands were holding her face like the most delicate porcelain but his mouth assaulted hers like he was going through withdrawal and she was his drug of choice. Brennan could only wrap her arms around him and hold on as he practically inhaled her.

She had never imagined a kiss could say so much. In her experience, a kiss was a simple meeting of the lips which indicated willingness to engage in further sexual exploration. It could be passionate or it could be tender, but it was simply an indication of the body's predisposition to engage in intercourse. She had never thought it could convey much more than that.

But she had been so wrong, because the way he was kissing her, though sexual, had nothing to do with sex. The way he was consuming her, with teeth, tongue, and lips, told her everything she needed to know. It was the kind of kiss that answered every question. It shouted it all; his need, his desperation, his fear, his longing.

Desire, yearning, panic, relief, craving, hunger, adoration.

Love.

She could taste it all on his lips. It was almost unbearable to feel so much. _Almost._ And she knew he could taste it too, because she answered him back, stroke for desperate stroke.

Burying his face in her neck, Booth closed his arms around his partner and trembled in hers. Brennan was shaking too, but couldn't tell whether from the adrenaline or from the words he was whispering against her neck.

"I can't," he confessed hoarsely. "I can't hold it back anymore."

"I know," her voice was just as low as she brought one hand up to cup the back of his neck soothingly. "I … oh god, I know."

"I thought … I was so afraid …" he shuddered.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "I'm sorry that …"

"No," he interrupted. "Don't even say it. I'd do anything. Anything and more to keep you safe."

He was crushing her to him, but couldn't get close enough. He was pressing small, reverent kisses on the side of her neck almost without realizing it. "I need you, _god_ … Bones, I need you more than I need to breathe."

Brennan closed her eyes and nodded against him. He was the one thing she needed too.

_So close. _

So close to death, and they both knew it, yet it was part of the job and they knew that too. But it had just been one near death experience too many and they couldn't hold it in anymore.

Every wall crumbled like so much dust and there was simply nothing left behind except the things they couldn't deny anymore.


	7. Hitting The Target Dead On

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

This scenario triggered by a suggestion by **criminalmindsfreak03.** This is a teeny bit of an **M** kiss. Enjoy!

**Hitting The Target Dead On  


* * *

**

"That is pretty damn good, Bones," he whistled appreciatively, admiring her near perfect target sheet.

"Yours is better," Brennan noted, just the slightest bit of a pout in her tone.

"Well, Bones," he laughed, charmed by that slight sulk to her voice no one else would have even been able to detect. "I'm a government-trained sniper, I think that'd be a lot of wasted tax dollars if you could shoot a gun better than me."

He looked at their target sheets, side by side. "This is almost perfect." Damn, but she was good. _Was it wrong that he found that totally sexy?_

"I don't accept almost, Booth," she grumbled, re-loading the gun and positioning another target sheet.

He couldn't help but laugh at the determination in her voice; she was just so damn adorable.

"Widen your stance a little," he suggested, automatically going to stand behind her as she lowered the protective goggles over her eyes. In turn, he moved the electronic earmuffs back over her ears and his own, the high tech gadget still allowed her to hear his instructions, while canceling out any loud, sharp noises.

"Take a deep breath," he instructed, hands on her hips as she held the weapon two-handed and trained it on the target. Brennan took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Again," Booth repeated. "But only exhale about half of it and hold the rest." When she did so, he moved his arms around her and placed his hands over hers on the gun.

"Don't tense up," he squeezed his hands to let her know she had too tight a grip on the weapon. "Relax your hands a little."

"Keep your eyes on the target," his voice was whisper-soft and husky, but neither of them realized it. "Remember, hitting the target dead on, that's the one thing you want more than anything else in the world." His hands moved back to her waist. "Don't blink."

"Test the slack," his voice was almost a caress as it washed over her. "Use the pad of the tip of your finger."

"When you fire, don't worry about the re-coil," Booth whispered. "Don't flinch."

She squeezed the trigger and his hands tightened on her hips. His chest pressed firmly against her back, his body containing the automatic re-coil of hers as she smoothly fired round after round into the target sheet.

Brennan emptied the magazine and lowered her weapon, but couldn't move as she took in the feel of his hands on her hips, his chest pressed against her, his scent mixing erotically with the smell of gunpowder. Hitting the safety, she dropped the gun on the counter in front of her, along with the protective ear and eye-wear, but she couldn't turn around and face him.

Brennan thought she was paralyzed, but clearly she wasn't, because her head dropped back to rest against his shoulder. Almost in synchronized reaction to her movement, his lips landed on the side of her neck. For what seemed like an eternity, his lips just rested on her skin, but then he started placing tiny, tiny kisses up and down her neck.

Electricity raced through her, making her gasp, and her hands moved unconsciously to rest over his own hands, still cupping her hips. His tongue skated out to taste her and almost in a daze, she moved one of his hands up to drag, under her T-shirt, over the side of her stomach. She let her hand fall away, but his continued to move up until he cupped one breast.

Booth thumbed her nipple until he felt it hard and stiff, even through the material of her sports bra. Her eyes closed as his teeth scraped down her skin and when she pressed back into him and felt his erection, she couldn't help but moan. The erotic sound made him freeze, his mind racing as he suddenly realized where they were and what they were doing.

She gasped as he removed his hand from under her shirt and whirled her around to face him. Her breathing was labored, her pupils nearly dilated as she looked at her partner and all she could think of doing was to reach up and remove the electronic earmuffs he was still wearing. Booth didn't move a muscle as she did so, his mind going in five different directions, all of them leading straight to her.

Brennan dropped the gear on the counter behind her without taking her eyes off him. His hands were still spanning her waist but she had no idea what was going through his mind. _Whatever it was, it'd better involve his mouth on hers_, she thought, _he'd better not try and hide behind their partnership._

"Don't flinch," she dared, placing her open palms on his chest.

His eyes narrowed and zeroed in on her lips. "No way in hell."

His head lowered and hers tilted up, lips meeting in an open-mouthed kiss full of teeth and tongue and a tiny bit of aggression. Booth's arms went around her and Brennan followed suit, like two interlocking pieces of the same puzzle.

There was no almost in the way they kissed, no blinking, no slack, no re-coil. There was only perfect aim and hitting the target dead on, over and over again.

* * *

**p.s I'm super behind in answering reviews 'cause school is awful, so so awful! (okay whining over) But I will answer them all next week after I turn in my paper! I hope you still review and let me know if my procrastination efforts are worth it :)**


	8. Just Do It

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

Yay, every single story except Breaking all the Rules has been updated! Hope you've enjoyed them!

The credit for this scenario goes to **Epistimonas** who suggested a kiss in the snow. Warning: fluffiness abounds! Review away and let me know if you likey :)

**Just Do It  


* * *

**

"Booooth," Brennan complained, drawing out the syllables in her partner's name in what came perilously close to a whine. "What are you doing? This is ridiculous, it's freezing."

"Aww, come on, Bones," he cajoled, dragging her through the nearly deserted park. "It's the perfect amount of snow to make a snowman."

"I don't wanna make a snowman," a recalcitrant Brennan insisted. "It serves absolutely no purpose, and I believe I said this already but let me say it again." She threw him a dirty look. "It's cold!"

"Bones," he wheedled, busting out his best smile. "Look how pretty the snow is, you need to have some fun, I bet you've never made a snowman in your life."

Countless women before her had fallen in the face of that smile, but Brennan remained stoic.

"You tricked me," she accused, her pouty expression making his smile widen. There were few things he found more adorable than a pouty Bones. "You told me we were going to go select a present for Parker."

"We did get him a present," Booth pointed out reasonably as he began to pack snow into a ball. "He's going to love that science kit, Bones."

"And then you promised me hot chocolate and the movie of my choice," she continued, refusing to soften. "At no time did you mention a detour through the park to engage in this nonsensical activity."

"It's called spontaneity, Bones," he responded, undaunted. "Add it to your vocabulary." He packed more snow with all the zeal of a ten-year old and threw her another killer smile. "Besides, I will give you hot chocolate and the movie of your choice, I promise." Walking around to admire the base of his snowman, he looked at his partner. "Come on, come play with me."

"You are just a big child," she grumbled, but couldn't resist his wide-eyed excitement as he built his snow monstrosity. "What do you want me to do?"

"Whatever you want, Bones," he answered. "There's no plan, it's just supposed to be fun."

"A plan is always a good idea," she lectured. "It ensures success and accuracy."

Grabbing a fistful of snow he threw it playfully at her shoulder. "How's that for accuracy?"

She gasped and immediately retaliated, except her snowball landed on the side of his neck.

"You hit bare skin, Bones," he pointed out menacingly. "You are so going to pay for that."

"Now, Booth," she said in a conciliatory manner, but taking a cautious step back. "You started it, I was merely defending myself."

"Nice try." On a mock growl he launched himself at her and she fled on a laughing scream. It was hard to run in the snow, but Booth had an advantage, even though sand and snow were not the same, he was better able to maneuver.

Catching her easily, Booth banded his arms around her waist from behind and picked her up, spinning her a little.

"Put me down!"

"Huh-huh," he spun her again. "Now, you are totally at my mercy and you have to pay the price if you want freedom again."

"Booth," she laughed at his silliness. "What do you want?"

"You have to help me finish my snowman," he decided. "No arguments, just an ecstatic smile on your face."

"What? I don't think so." Brennan argued. "I'll help you finish it but I don't have to like it."

"You are not in a position to negotiate, Bones," he reminded, giving her another little spin. "Besides, you know you are going to like it."

_Oh, damn, that came out wrong_, Booth thought, suddenly realizing that he was holding his heavenly-smelling partner in his arms. Closing his eyes, he inhaled her scent. _Oh Jesus, she smells good._

"Fine," Brennan gave in, realizing she better agree or she'd never get that hot chocolate. "Booth?" Her voice brought him out of his trance. "You can let go now, I've agreed to your request."

"Oh, right." He released her and took a step back, trying to shake off the spell her nearness had caused. Turning to face him, Brennan frowned at the strange expression on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Against his will, Booth's eyes went to her lips before he snapped his gaze up again. "Come on, we have a snowman to finish."

As promised, she helped him build the snowman without complaint and Booth tried to maintain his sanity in the face of her smiling lips and cold-flushed cheeks. By the time they finished soft snowflakes were falling down and he was mesmerized once more as she stood back to admire their creation.

"Should we name him?" Brennan inquired, standing next to her partner and grinning at the snowman.

"Name him?" Booth echoed, unable to take his eyes away from her.

"Yeah, you know, we created him, I believe we are responsible for naming him." She shivered involuntary and rubbed her arms as the cold hit her. "But we have to do it quickly because I'm freezing."

Without thinking he stepped closer, arms wrapping securely around her. "He looks fierce," Booth noted, trying once more to keep his eyes away from her lips. "How about Bruno?"

"How about you stop thinking about it and just do it?"

"_What?_" he choked out, arms tightening automatically around her.

"Just kiss me, Booth," she clarified, gloved hands gripping his jacket.

"How do you know I've been thinking about it?" His voice came out fairly normal, considering his heart was threatening to come out of his throat.

"Because I actually lost count of how many times your eyes went to my lips."

"I lost count too," he admitted with a self-deprecating smile.

Bringing one hand to her face, he brushed away a snowflake that was resting on her cheek before cupping that hand around her neck. Slowly, Booth moved his head down until his lips pressed down on hers. For a moment they both froze, cool lips pressing together, eyes open and locked in slight shock.

And then, at nearly the same time, two sets of lips opened on a groan and two sets of eyes closed helplessly. The heat they generated dissipated the cold as they consumed each other hungrily in a frenzy of teeth and dueling tongues.

Brennan wrenched her lips away to breathe some air and Booth rested his forehead against hers.

"Holy hell," he panted.

"More," she demanded, attacking his lips again.

Tugging her even closer, his mouth opened voraciously on hers in kiss after ravenous kiss. Over and over again, he slanted his mouth over hers in one kiss after another. By the time she was sitting in his apartment with a cup of hot chocolate in her hands, they had both lost count.

"Just do it," he whispered teasingly when she placed her cup down and locked her eyes on his lips. Brennan's laughter disappeared against his mouth as she devoured her partner in chocolate-flavored kisses.


	9. The Perfect Combination

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

For some reason I can't stop thinking of first kiss scenarios! I'm sorry if you are waiting for updates on Breaking or SS , but this is kinda of what's coming out when I sit down to write! I blame it on the last few episodes, they are just so close to that kiss, I can feel it! Here goes, fluffy sweet but hopefully not sickeningly so. Let me know what you think! I mean it, you'all! :)

**The Perfect Combination Of Two Waiting Hearts  


* * *

**

They had been sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial for almost an hour before he got the nerve to give it to her. He didn't know why he was so afraid to hand it over; it was just a birthday present.

_Right. Just a birthday present he had custom made just for her and which he was fairly certain shouted I love you. Right along with I need you, I'm always thinking about you, I'll do anything just to see you smile._

When he had gone to Angela and told her what he wanted so she could sketch it out for him, she had done it without saying a word, but the smug smile on her face told him just how transparent his feelings were.

Christ, he had to stop obsessing, this was Bones, he'd given her countless presents before and she never read anything into them. He was pretty sure this time wouldn't be any different, so he had to stop worrying about it.

It was late, they had a long day, he just had to give it to her.

"Hey," Booth said softly. "I have your birthday present."

"What?" Brennan frowned in confusion. "But you already gave me a present."

"Nah, Bones," he smiled, pulling the square box from his jacket. "That was a group thing." He cleared his throat a little as he handed it to her. "This is just … you know, from me to you."

"Booth," she protested, taking the box and running her fingers over the velvety material. "You didn't have to do this."

"I know I didn't, but I wanted to," he was getting more and more nervous. "Just open it, Bones."

Brennan looked at her partner and she could see he was slightly anxious. Opening the case slowly, the first thing she saw was the message engraved on the inside of the lid.

_The perfect combination of science and instinct. Thank-you for being my partner._

And then her breath caught in her throat as she looked down at the delicate silver necklace resting inside. It was simple and beautiful but what made her nearly faint were the six small but exquisitely detailed charms lining the necklace.

An FBI badge, a skull, a set of tiny cuffs, a field kit, a gun, and a lab coat. The miniature badge said Booth and the lab coat read Brennan. The tiny charms were evenly spaced apart and she ran her fingers delicately over each one.

"I know it's not your usual style," he whispered, growing worried at her silence. "I just thought …"

"Booth," she interrupted softly, heart beating madly in her chest. "It's incredible … it's beautiful."

"You like it?"

"It's perfect," she answered, turning wide, sparkling eyes on him and that smile that never failed to make him weak in the knees.

_You're perfect_, he nearly sighed, smiling back at her.

"Will you …?" Brennan removed the necklace reverently and set the case down gently on the step next to her.

"Yeah," Booth exhaled, almost hypnotized as she gathered her hair up and turned so he could clasp the necklace.

"Booth, thank-you," she said, trying to control her body, the brush of his fingers almost making her tremble. "I love it."

"Angela helped me," he answered hoarsely, closing the small cuff-shaped clasp. "I almost drove her crazy." His throat was dry and his eyes felt heavy as he looked at the smooth line of her nape.

"I'm glad you like it," he whispered, his own voice sounding far-away to him.

Almost in slow motion, Booth's head lowered until his lips pressed faintly against the back of her neck, right over the clasp he'd just closed. And this time she couldn't control herself, the barely-there press of his lips setting her on fire.

Letting her hair drop down again, Brennan whirled around to face her partner. His eyes opened slightly as if with shock, but before he could say anything, she buried her face in his neck.

"What are you doing to me?" she mumbled before opening her lips on his neck and sucking so hard he knew it would leave a mark.

"Bones," he gasped, one hand automatically reaching up to cup the back of her head, the other pressing against her back.

Her lips blazed a trail up to the line of his jaw before settling on his lips. For about five seconds she kissed him sweetly, hands feathering the planes of his face softly, her tongue slipping inside his parted lips and tasting him delicately. But when he moaned deliriously into her mouth, she went crazy.

Pushing him back, Brennan straddled her partner and tore into him. Her knees were digging uncomfortably on the cement but she only cared about devouring his absolutely delicious mouth. Booth's back was pressing painfully into the steps, but nothing penetrated except the feel of her on top of him, eating him alive and reducing him to a trembling mass of desire.

His body arched into her, fingers digging helplessly into her softly-grinding hips. _Oh, Jesus,_ he thought frantically, _she was going to make him come on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial._

But suddenly she stilled, wrenching her lips away on a husky moan and looking down at him with blazing eyes.

"Tell me," she demanded, running her thumb tenderly across his kiss-swollen bottom lip.

For a second he blanked, but the rapid rise and fall of her chest drew his eyes to the necklace, the tiny symbols of who they were shining against her flawless skin. And he knew there was no hiding it anymore.

"I love you." His head fell heavily against one of the steps, eyes closing as the words escaped hoarsely from his lips.

Brennan waited, finally exhaling in relief when she realized, this time, there would be no qualifier. Her forehead rested against his as she traced the outline of his lips lovingly with her tongue.

"Hey," she whispered and he opened his brown eyes on her smiling blue ones. "I love you too, Booth."


	10. The Way I Think Of You

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones. Much to my dismay.

Enjoy!

**The Way I Think Of You  
**

* * *

"Your tie is crooked," Brennan pointed out, reaching up automatically and adjusting the patterned fabric. The minute she touched him, his hand came up and wrapped around her wrist, keeping her hand from dropping down again.

"Booth?" She didn't try to pull away from him but frowned at the stricken look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"I … Bren," he whispered and she nearly gasped out loud at the name that passed so naturally through his lips.

"Booth?" she repeated, fear and worry rising through her. "I'm not … do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, Bones," he assured. "I know who you are."

"Then why …" Brennan moistened suddenly dry lips. "You just called me Bren." She said the name in a hushed whisper, almost as if afraid of his reaction if she said it too loudly.

"I know," he acknowledged, thumb rubbing unconsciously over the pulse-point over her wrist. "But not because I don't know who you are."

"Then why …" she repeated, her eyes going wide at the way his darkened; her lips parting in a tiny gasp of surprise as he raised her imprisoned hand and pressed his lips against the inside of her wrist.

"I'm not sure," his voice low and intense, Booth took a step closer until his chest was brushing hers and their lips were less than half an inch apart. "But I have some theories, wanna hear them?"

Brennan fought to keep her eyes open, to keep herself from melting against him right there in the middle of her office. She felt dazed. _How had this happened?_ He had walked in to go to lunch, she had stepped away from her desk and moved in his direction when she noticed his tie was misaligned; she had stepped closer to fix it and then he had gone into a trance.

And clearly she had too, because instead of demanding he come to his senses, Brennan simply answered _yes_ in a breathy whisper she didn't even recognize.

"Maybe it slipped out because I can't stop thinking about touching you in all the ways I was allowed to when I could call you Bren," he theorized first. "Or maybe it's because when I say the name, it sounds right, it sounds intimate and I like that."

"It was a dream," she reminded him in a barely audible voice that hitched as he finally lowered her hand only to trail his up her arms.

"Yeah," Booth agreed softly, holding her face gently between his fingertips. "This is my favorite theory, maybe the reason is that the way we were in that dream, I don't want it to stay in the dream, I want it to be real."

"Real?" she mouthed, mesmerized by his soft voice and shining eyes, by his thumb scraping along her bottom lip.

"Real," he asserted, kissing the right corner of her mouth. "When I think Temperance, I'm usually on the verge of strangling you, or I'm desperate to comfort you, or sometimes I'm just plain desperate for you and for some reason it makes me so hot to think of screaming your name out in the most exquisite pleasure."

Brennan gasped and he caught the sound with his lips, using his thumb to press her bottom lip down and swipe his tongue over the tender inside flesh. Her hands settled on his waist and Booth pressed a kiss on the left corner of her mouth as he continued his seductive explanation.

"Bones is just between us, only I get to call you that, no one else would even dare. When I first used it I was trying to piss you off, but now it reminds me that there is this _thing_ between us that no one can take away, that no one can ever be a part of. And it makes me so outrageously smug that I'm the only one that gets to have that with you, I'm the only one that's allowed to go there with you."

His kisses rained over her face like sweet benediction, his hands going up to thread amidst the dark strands of her hair.

"And Bren is what I think about now when it hits me how desperate I am to make you mine," he whispered, capturing her bottom lip gently between his teeth. "Only this time, for real, not in a dream, not in a coma, but just in our reality. _This_ reality."

Finally he swept his tongue inside, mapping out every inch of her. She tasted deliciously familiar and excitingly new all at the same time. Her tongue touched his hesitantly and he moaned softly, his fingers tensing imperceptibly in her hair, his mouth moving hungrily yet tenderly on hers.

"Temperance," Booth gasped, breathing some air before burying his face in her hair. Her arms had gone around his waist, holding him close and she turned her head, placing a kiss on the line of his jaw.

"Only you can make my name sound so luscious," she confessed.

"Bren," he whispered, placing a sucking kiss on the side of her neck and trying that one out next.

"Okay, you can make anything sound luscious," she conceded, nipping at him playfully. "Should I start thinking of additional names for you other than Booth?"

"Oh, Bones," he laughed at her serious tone, untangling his hands from her hair and draping a friendly arm around her shoulders. "How about we discuss this over lunch?"

"Fine," she agreed. "But I'm warning you, I like Booth, it has a nice cadence to it." Still laughing, he turned them towards the door and suddenly they both froze.

Various Jeffersonian employees, including Hodgins and Cam, stood watching in shock what had taken place inside the glass walls of her office. As they exited the office, everyone scattered like ants, except for Cam and Hodgins who wore identical smirks on their faces.

"Thanks for the show," Cam deadpanned.

"Angela's going to be upset she missed this," Hodgins predicted.

Fighting a blush, Booth slid his hand down to the spot at the small of her back and steered his partner past their amused colleagues. He snuck a glance at her to gauge her reaction but she looked calm and serene as always.

It was when his hand moved along her back in a soothing caress that he saw her smile.


	11. Exclusively Hers

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

All right, I was a little disappointed with the lack of BB in the last episode (though could that ending have been any more adorably flirty?) Anyway, here's another one-shot celebrating the holy grail which we all seek-the BB real kiss. Enjoy! Just for fun: can anyone guess the movie Booth brought over from my very vague description of it? I love that movie, if you guess, I may just have to give you a prize!

**Exclusively Hers**

**

* * *

**

"Well, from an anthropological perspective that was …" Brennan's voice trailed off as she turned her head and realized he wasn't listening to her. On a sigh, she turned off the TV and DVD player and shifted sideways on the couch to study her sleeping partner.

Bending her elbow against the back of the couch, she rested her head in her hand as she gazed at him in the dim lighting of her living room. How he could have fallen asleep sitting up like that was a mystery to Brennan, but the even rise and fall of his chest told her he was sleeping fairly deeply.

Moving a little closer to him, she shifted to her knees on the couch and looked down at him. His lips were slightly parted and she found her hand hovering right over them. She had never studied him like this, deeply asleep, utterly vulnerable and with every single defense down. She touched the stress lines at the corner of one closed eye and felt everything inside her clench. The case they had closed yesterday had been so hard on him; the victim a young boy whose bones spoke of prolonged and consistent abuse. Unsurprisingly, his father had murdered him and tried to cover up the crime by burning the body. During the interrogation, she had been able to taste her partner's rage, it had been a living entity that wanted to lash out and crush the monster sitting across the table from them. Even after he had gotten a confession, Booth had still looked haunted and she had felt so helpless, cursing her inability to say the right thing.

Today when she saw him at lunch, Brennan could tell he had not gotten a good night's sleep and she had asked him to pass by with a movie tonight because she had been desperate to see him relax. She had made it clear that she wanted something humorous and he had brought a very amusing movie about a clever army sergeant coasting through his post at a small army base, embroiled in one scheme after another.

She hoped his falling asleep meant that he had finally been able to relax; she hoped this had been the right thing to do. Brennan was so at a loss when it came to comforting others, yet she was desperate to comfort him.

_Booth_, she thought, skimming the tips of her fingers across the planes of his face as if he were made of spun glass. _Please, don't hurt_.

Whatever chemical reactions were triggered by his mere presence, she no longer cared to speculate on. Because it didn't matter and she didn't care. _Whatever _it was that made her feel like this, like he was the only thing that mattered; whatever the reason, she had come to accept it without question.

Looking down at him, it struck her just how much she wanted to hug him, kiss him, _touch_ him. It was almost surreal, but she wanted to absorb his despair through her fingertips and soothe away his pain with her lips. He wasn't really hers to comfort, but she no longer cared about that either. Maybe it was the thought or maybe it was the fact that she was so tired of fighting it, but Brennan placed her knees on either side of him and straddled her partner. Making sure to kept her weight off him, she hesitantly placed her hands on his shoulders and softly brushed her lips over his.

Keeping her eyes open, she placed tiny kisses at the corners of his eyes and mouth before settling softly on his lips again. Her heart was pounding madly as she wondered how long it would take him to wake up and what he would say once he did.

His lips opened sweetly under hers, and she closed her eyes as her tongue slipped inside and touched his tentatively. The taste of him electrified her. _Oh god, how had this one man changed everything for her? _

They were so different and yet none of that mattered when she was with him. Because being with him was damn near perfect and now she knew that kissing him was _absolutely_ perfect. Brennan opened her eyes again and froze, her tongue still inside his mouth, as he looked at her with dazed brown eyes.

_Don't wake up, don't wake up, don't wake up_. Booth chanted the words inside his mind, even as something was rousing him to full consciousness. He tried to fight it, desperate to absorb every second of her lips on him.

_So damn real_, he thought, opening sleepy eyes and waking up to the feel of those soft lips and the fragrant curtain of her hair surrounding him.

He blinked once, twice, wondering if he was still in the dream. His hands automatically moved to cup her hips and she felt solid under his hands. Experimentally, Booth stroked her tongue with his own, and she made a little sound he had never heard in any of his dreams. It registered that her hands were gripping his shoulders and it felt real. _Was it?_ Had he really woken up or was he still asleep?

His hands tightened unconsciously on her hips as he broke away from her lips.

"Bones?" His voice was husky with sleep and arousal as he asked, "Are you real?" _Oh god, oh god, please don't let this be a dream_.

"Real?" she frowned, confused, running one hand from his shoulder to stroke his cheek. "Of course I'm real, how could I not be?"

"Because I could still be asleep and this could just be a dream."

"You dream about me?" Her voice was full of wonder and his heart was pounding crazily as the reality started to sink in.

"Every damn day," he confessed, pressing his hands against her back. "Kiss me again, please."

Now both her hands tangled in his hair and she lowered her full weight unto his lap, the length of her torso pressed firmly against his. "Are you trying to ascertain the likelihood that you are, in fact, not asleep?"

"No," he smiled, cupping one hand around the back of her neck. "I just want you to kiss me again."

She closed the slight distance between them, but stopped with a slight frown, right before settling her lips over his. "Was it wrong for me to kiss you while you were still asleep?"

"What?" His mind was slightly clouded and his lips were practically tingling and all he wanted was to _just taste her_, but she was asking him a question that made no sense; it would _never_ be wrong for her to kiss him.

"Well, you _were_ in a vulnerable position," she explained, her fingers massaging his scalp gently. "And you looked really peaceful and it was like I couldn't even stop myself, but that's really no excuse because I still kissed you without your permission."

Booth was now certain that this was definitely _not_ a dream, because only real Bones would argue with him while he was desperate to kiss her again.

"God, I don't care, Bones, believe me, you can …" his voice trailed off and his eyes went wide. "You couldn't stop yourself?" Booth knew he was grinning foolishly but he didn't care.

"That's what you are focusing on?"

"Heck yeah," he breathed excitedly. "That's the only thing that matters." Unable to help himself, Booth leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. "Now, are you going to kiss me or not?"

"Yes," she answered earnestly, before finally kissing him. His mouth immediately opened for her and he kissed her back with all the passion he'd been restraining for so many goddamn years.

"Booth," she gasped, peppering frenzied kisses over his face. "I can't _not_ kiss you anymore."

"Bones," he whispered, holding her face between his hands, the vulnerability of her words nearly making him tremble. "Listen, you can kiss me whenever, wherever." Leaning his forehead against hers, he stroked his thumbs in soothing circles against her silky skin.

"Always," he promised. "God, Bones, that right has been yours for years, okay?"

"Mine?" she whispered in a tiny voice that made him wrap his arms around her and bury his face in her hair.

"Oh, yeah," Booth confirmed, he had always been hers and now she finally knew it. "_Exclusively_ yours."

_Hers_, she thought, wrapping her arms around him as well and trailing her lips along his neck in wonder. _Hers to kiss and hers to comfort_. _Always_.

* * *

**p.s. I'm sure you've noticed posting frequency is down. But there's a little thing called finals to deal with! Now, because I love you all so much, I'm still going to try and post a little over the next few weeks :) Do you love me? :)**

**p.p.s. Any particular preference as to which story gets updated next?** -Breaking all the Rules is already being updated soon, so don't bother with that one :)


	12. Catching Fire

Disclaimer: Bones not mine. Not even a little bit, just having fun.

YAAAAAYYY!! Finals over, update flurry beginning! Are you excited? I'm excited! This is a little something that was inspired by a review by **_VaneBB_**, who was wondering whether the kiss mentioned in Chapter 49 (Possession) of Only b/w Us was something I'd written about in another story. it wasn't, but couldn't stop thinking about it. Enjoy!

**Catching Fire  


* * *

**

She wasn't sure how it happened and neither was he. She didn't know who moved first and neither did he. But one second they were looking at each other and the next they closed the space between them in one sizzling hot kiss.

They'd had dinner at the new Italian place he had been wanting to try all week and then he walked her to her door because he was Booth and he just did stuff like that. And they both knew it wasn't a date; but god, it _felt_ like a date. Maybe that's what got to them; it should damn well _have_ been a date and dates ended with a kiss.

Except Booth was pretty sure no date he'd ever been on had ended with a kiss like this. And Brennan had never before attacked her dates against her front door in a frenzy of greed. But the moment they touched, they went crazy; absolutely, lost-all-control-and-don't-give-a-damn crazy.

His arms wrapped around her tightly as he crushed her against him and her hands anchored in his hair; her tongue sweeping inside his mouth and tasting every inch of him. Brennan felt like she couldn't get close enough, her body deliriously rubbing against his. It drove Booth wild and he growled into her mouth; hands molding her firm, round ass and pressing her right into his hard-on. His arousal excited her further and she moaned against his lips, turning him into the door and devouring him eagerly.

When she released his lips to take a deep breath, Booth moved his hands up to cup her hips and quickly spun her around so that she was now the one backed against the door. One gasping breath and then he captured her lips again, grinding her hard. It was like someone had poured kerosene on him and then lit a match. Her breasts pressed deliciously against his chest, her hips cradling his as she strained against him. He could feel her fingers digging against his shoulders, kneading the muscles in a slightly frantic rhythm that told him just how wound up this was getting her.

His mind was a whirl of sensation and feverish desire. All he could think of was how long he'd been waiting for this, for her, how his imagination had not done justice to the reality. Tangling one hand in her hair, he changed the angle of the kiss, running his tongue along her pearly teeth before sucking heavily on her top lip. A soft, little whimpering sound escaped from the back of her throat and he gave the same attention to her pouty bottom lip.

If anything approaching rational thought would have been going through her mind, Brennan might have been slightly horrified at the needy, breathy noises he was pulling out of her. But as it was, all she cared about was that he never stop. It seemed preposterous, illogical, _just plain_ _wrong_ to have denied herself _this_ for so many damn years.

_Moremoremore_, her pleasure-drenched mind chanted. She could have kissed him forever, she couldn't imagine anything or anyone tasting as good as him. God, he tasted minty and chocolaty and dark and light and just Booth.

The hand in her hair tightened as he wrapped his free arm around her waist and pressed her firmly against him. Brennan's back arched a little, her lower body automatically bucking up into him.

"Bones …" he groaned oh so softly, pressing his face against the side of her neck.

In the quiet all he could hear was the panting breaths that signaled their total loss of control. He was sure her brain was going a mile a minute trying to deal with this and his own mind raced to try and figure out what to do and say next.

_Pick her up, open that door and make love to her right now_, was the first suggestion his mind helpfully provided. Followed by, _tell her how much you love her, how you've been waiting for this moment for nearly five years_.

But when his next thought was, _God, I so want to marry you and make a little squint of our own_, Booth knew it was time to take a step back before he said something that would put her on the next plane to Guatemala.

He couldn't help pressing his lips against the skin of her neck softly before untangling his hand from her hair and releasing her. She looked at him with wide eyes and dilated pupils, swollen red lips that were still parted in breathless agitation. Booth was sure that he was in no better shape. It struck him that he had completely kissed off the pretty coral lipstick she'd been wearing earlier. The thought that he'd get to kiss her lipstick clean off from now on was damn near intoxicating; making it almost impossible to say goodnight and walk away. But, he needed to give her time and space to process and come to a conclusion in that hyper-rational brain of hers. _It'd better be the right conclusion_, he thought darkly.

"Goodnight," Booth whispered, turning around before he could talk himself out of it. _They belonged together_. He was pretty sure she knew it, now all she had to do was tell him.

Brennan watched her partner leave and could barely contain her gasp. _He was leaving?_ How could he kiss her senseless and then just go? How could he walk away after the most amazing kiss she'd ever experienced? Did he think he could just forget about it and pretend it hadn't meant anything just like they'd done after the first time they kissed?

_Oh, I don't think so, Booth_. Brennan slammed her door shut, feeling some satisfaction at the sound. _No more pretending_, she vowed. _For either of us_.

* * *

**_p.s. don't be too upset, remember, this gets resolved_**, **_just go read Possession to see how, though the title says it all._**


	13. Truth and Consequences

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones :)

This is an **M** kiss, the type we would only get if the show was on a different network, lol! But this was kicking around in my head and I figured why not, since I haven't updated this story in a while! Enjoy!

**Truth and Consequences  


* * *

**

_Jesus Christ, this couldn't be happening_.

The words bounced around frantically in his head, but not even the crazed thought was enough to stop the relentless pounding of his hips.

She gasped out his name-even now his last name-and thrust back into him, hands flat on her desk giving her all the leverage needed to make the action hard and _fucking mind-blowing_.

How had it come to this? And how did they go from an outright knock-down, drag-out _fight _to knock-down, drag-out _sex_. And not just any sex, but feverish, yank-her-dress-up-and- pound-her-from-behind-for-all-he-was-worth sex.

Because she'd told him to chose, hadn't she? Without even looking at him, her back to him in a seemingly deliberate taunt, she'd given him his options.

"_Fuck me or get the hell out."_

And he'd chosen. He'd chosen to make her forget about every goddamn loser that had come before him. He'd chosen to make it clear-unequivocally, furiously clear-that there would be no one after. He had chosen to lose his mind inside her exquisitely tight body without thinking about the consequences.

And there would be consequences.

Because you couldn't storm into your partner's office in the middle of the night and fuck her senseless without consequences.

Because now he'd touched her and there would be consequences for that too.

Because now she was his and she was going to have to deal with the consequences of _that_, one way or another.

He felt her slick inner muscles spasm around his driving cock and had to grit his teeth against his own orgasm. Hard as steel he pounded into her again and again until she cried out his name and then he buried his face against the delicate curve of her neck and worked her up and over orgasm number three. Against his will, he exploded inside her, even though he'd wanted to make her come and scream his name just like_ that_ until the goddamn sun came out.

She was boneless under him, torso flat against the desk and he had to grip the edge on either side of her body so as not to slide unceremoniously down to the floor. Resting his cheek between her shoulder blades, he synchronized his breathing with hers until they were both actually _breathing_, instead of just desperately inhaling air.

Gently, he slipped from her body and kissed her spine soothingly in response to her little gasp. Reverent hands raised her underwear and smoothed down her dress and then turned her around so that she was finally facing him. He lifted her onto the desk and stepped between her legs, resting his forehead against hers.

She looked as dazed as he felt and he cupped his hands around her face, stunned most of all by the sudden thought that he knew how tight she felt but not what she tasted like.

Three years ago she'd tasted like peppermint, but that was really the result of hastily chewed gum. Peppermint and something else he hadn't been able to truly catalogue before she pulled her lips away. Something he'd been chasing in his dreams ever since.

His thumb brushed against her bottom lip gently and he marveled at how soft the skin felt. He thought of the hard words she'd just thrown at him out of those incredibly soft lips and realized that the contrast was so uniquely _her_: all hard edges and heart-crushing softness.

_So fucking in love with you._

The words had to be written all over his face and he knew that when his lips landed, pillow-soft, against hers, she could damn well taste them. Keeping one hand cupped around her cheek, he brought the other one to cup her nape, making love to her mouth in a way he hadn't been able to do to her body.

She had pushed and he snapped and the gentle lovemaking he had imagined countless times had gone up in smoke before he even realized what was going on. But now he ran his tongue softly across her slightly parted lips, worshipping the satiny flesh with swirling strokes and tiny nips.

He felt her hands move slowly up his chest until one was gripping his shoulder and the other one curled around his neck. Her lips opened fully under his and he finally inserted his tongue inside the sweet cavity to sweep the recesses of her mouth.

Her fingertips pressed insistently against him as he ran the tip of his tongue around the edges of hers, before sucking on the tip softly. She gave him a tiny, barely audible moan and he trailed his hand from the back of her neck down so he could wrap his arm around her waist and hold her closer.

He traced his tongue in careful exploration along every inch of her mouth, desperate to capture that taste he'd barely had time to savor during those twelve seconds so long ago. And even though he was desperate, he didn't rush; instead he relished in the taste and texture of her sweetly parted lips.

_IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou._

Without uttering a sound, he spilled the words into her mouth. Her eyes opened on him and he knew she knew.

This time there could be no qualifier, not after this complete meltdown of every single barrier between them. No qualifier, just raw honesty, only the most pure unvarnished truth and they would both have to deal with the consequences.

* * *

_**p.s. there's a subtle hint here as to what the fight is about but it's really up to your imagination! And as always I love to read any speculation! :)**_


	14. Coming Back to You

Disclaimer. Don't own Bones

A/n: This has not been updated in a long time, so I hope it hasn't been abandoned! I believe a kiss in the rain has been requested! Enjoy!

**Coming Back to You  


* * *

**

"Is everything all right, Booth?"

Brennan wasn't able to keep the worry out of her question. He had insisted on dinner tonight and she knew him well enough to know that something was troubling him.

"Bones …"

"Is something wrong with Parker?"

Booth's eyes collided with hers at the soft question and he sighed heavily, hands automatically reaching over to grasp hers over the diner table. He knew he had to tell her; he had been postponing it for days, but of course she had picked up that something was wrong. It continually surprised him that she could read him so well and yet appear so oblivious as to his feelings for her.

"Parker's fine," he assured her quickly. "I just … I have to tell you something." Taking a deep breath he decided it would be best to just get it over with. "I have to go away for a while." Almost as if in reaction to his words, rain started softly pelting the window.

"What?"

"There's a … situation with one of our undercover operations and I've been ordered to go in," he explained, trying to keep it as vague as possible; he knew when his superiors said _classified_, they were not kidding around.

"You've been ordered?" she frowned. "Because of your background?"

"Among other things," Booth nodded, trying not to panic when she carefully pulled her hands away from his. "Bones …"

"How long?"

It worried him, the toneless, controlled way she asked the question.

"I'm coming back, Bones," he said instead.

"How long, Booth?" she repeated stonily and Booth knew he couldn't lie to her, but it terrified him to think that she might already be classifying him in her mind along with every other person in her life who had left her.

"I can't be sure," he admitted honestly. "At least a few months, but not too much longer than that … my cover is fairly deep, but even the deepest covers get dangerous the more time …"

"And just how dangerous will it be?" she snapped suddenly, out of the corner of her eye she could see the rain hitting the diner window next to their table with increasing force. It almost felt like the pelting rain would be able to crash through the glass. "What are you telling Parker?"

"The truth, that I have to go away for work for a little bit, but that I love him and that I'm coming back."

"You shouldn't make promises you might not be able to keep," she said harshly, turning her face to the window and studying the pounding rain. Suddenly, it felt like the storm was inside her, threatening to tear her apart.

"Temperance, look at me," Booth said softly, heart hammering as she turned wide, brilliant eyes on him. "Hey, I _will _be coming back."

"You don't know that, Booth!" All she could process was that he was leaving and she might never see him again. "This, whatever they are having you do, it's dangerous, don't bother pretending otherwise."

His eyes were midnight black and she knew he wouldn't lie to her, but at that moment she almost wanted him to. She wanted him to hold her and promise her he would not die on this damn undercover operation. She wanted him to tell her he wouldn't be in any danger; she wanted him to say anything to make the sick feeling in her stomach go away.

_Months … she was going to spend months not knowing whether he was all right or not_. The thought nearly made her gasp, propelling her up from the table and into the roiling storm.

"Bones!" He launched himself after her, ignoring the startled glances of the other diner customers on his way out. "Bones! It's pouring … please, just stop!"

His voice sounded as desperate as she felt and she stopped abruptly, turning around to face him, despite the overwhelming urge to keep running.

"You are leaving me!" she accused, her voice practically turning into a sob that she couldn't control. Brennan felt wildly emotional and as much as she hated the out-of-control feeling, she was helpless against it.

"No!" His denial reverberated over the pounding rain and he walked determinedly forward until he was standing right in front of her. "No," Booth repeated firmly, one hand unconsciously going up to cup possessively around the back of her neck. "I am _not _leaving you. I am going to do my job and then I'm coming back."

Her hands curled desperately on his drenched T-shirt and she looked up at him with the most vulnerable look he'd ever seen. Rivulets of water tracked down her pale face and her bottom lip trembled on his name. "Booth …"

"Hey, no fucking way I'm leaving you. Couldn't if I tried." The rain beating down on them seemed to have stripped him of every barrier, every particle of caution he had ever possessed in regards to her. "I'm not going to lie, it's plenty dangerous, but I don't care what I have to do, I'm coming back to you."

"You fucking better," she whispered softly and even with the curse word, there was no hiding the vulnerability behind the sentence.

It hit Booth, just how much she was revealing to him with this desperate reaction that had taken him by surprise. She was so vulnerable; her feelings for him made her so exquisitely vulnerable and it brought every possessive, protective instinct roaring to the surface. Automatically, his hand on her nape tightened and he brought his other arm around her waist, bringing her into him, even as his lips crashed down on hers.

Almost poetically, lightning punctuated the slant of his mouth on hers and Booth was sure _they_ were generating more electricity than the storm. Her arms went around him on a tiny whimper and she surged into him, kissing him back for all she was worth.

On her lips, he could taste the rain and his future and it tasted freaking fantastic. The hand at her nape moved up to coil around her soaking wet hair as he bit down oh so gently on her bottom lip before using his tongue to caress it softly.

"Bones," he whispered, resting his forehead on hers as the rain curtained around them. "You are not going to be in Guatemala when I get back, right?"

"What?" Brennan was feeling slightly dazed as she brushed her lips over and over against his. "Of course not."

"Or any other country," Booth clarified, releasing her waist to cup her cheek gently. "You'll still be right here in D.C.?"

"Yes," she answered immediately, shaking slightly as her body protested her drenched state. "I'll be here and you better be coming back in one piece."

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away."

"What?" Her teeth clattered on the question.

"It's an expression," he said ruefully, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and steering her towards the car. "Come on, let's get out of this storm, you look like a little drenched kitty."

She wrinkled her nose at the description and he laughed out loud, closing his arms around her and giving her an impulsive quick spin in the rain.

"You are so adorable," he murmured, enchanted by everything that was Temperance Brennan, right down to the raindrops spiking her lashes. Setting her back on her feet, he smoothed back her rain-slicked hair. "I should have told you a long time ago, I should have …"

Her lips effectively stopped his self-recrimination and she shivered lightly, partly due to her soaked clothes, partly in reaction to his cool lips gliding adoringly over hers.

"I don't care about before, Booth," she said earnestly. "I only care about now. I only care that you-" Her nostrils flared and her lips trembled momentarily, before she buried her face in his neck. "Tell me again."

He knew exactly was she was asking and his arms closed reassuringly around her slim frame, palms rubbing soothingly over the blouse plastered to her.

"Hell or high water, Bones," he promised over the punishing rain, lips pressed firmly against her skin. "I'm coming back home to you."


	15. Bridging The Distance

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: Daily update. Thank-you to _**ShippyChick**_ for the idea, hope this was what you had in mind :) Let me know if you liked, I'm slightly nervous over this!

**Bridging The Distance  


* * *

**

"Bones," he said tenderly, arms on the table as he leaned minutely forward. "You're sad."

She looked at him with eyes so lightly blue they were almost gray and that sad little girl expression that _always_ gutted him. When she looked like this, it was all he could do not to envelop her in his arms and promise her anything. Anything at all.

_Just smile again_. _I'll do anything to see you smiling again._

Brennan sighed softly, unconsciously mimicking his posture on the table.

"Our victim, it was so sad," she admitted. "He didn't feel the same way about her and yet she still couldn't get over him."

This case scraped her in ways she didn't understand. The murderer had been a crazed co-worker who would likely be judged incompetent to stand trial. But for once, it wasn't the victim's death that was haunting Brennan, it was her life. During their investigation they had learned from the victim's family and friends that the shy accountant was hopelessly in love with her next-door neighbor. And it was entirely one-sided.

"Even after he told her, even after she knew he only saw her as a friend, she was still in love with him," she repeated with a slight frown.

"We can't help who we fall in love with," Booth said softly, unable to look away from her even as he feared what she could read in his eyes; it did not escape him how revealing this conversation could get.

"But she died that way … with these feeling she couldn't contain, but which were only hurting her." Brennan's voice was a raw whisper. "It just seems so … hopeless."

"It sucks, Bones," he conceded, leaning forward on the table without even realizing it. "It sucks for everyone. He is miserable too, you know. Feeling guilty because he didn't love her the way she needed him to … so yeah, it sucks, but it's not hopeless. Love never is."

"How can you still believe that?" she whispered.

"I have to, Bones," he answered a little hoarsely. "Being in love … you can't help it, you can't control it, and yes, it can be painful, but not hopeless."

Brennan leaned forward too, mesmerized by his voice, his eyes, by everything she _thought_ she could read in them. He was smiling at her, even white teeth and adorable dimples simply dazzling her. _That smile_. She felt possessive of it, that smile had been drawing her in for years, slowly but surely, until she felt on the edge ready to tip over.

"Even if you say I love you—" His lips wrapped around those three little words and they vibrated the air, "—and she never says it back, even if she never _feels_ it, I still can't regret it, I still …"

The gap was small, but it felt endless as she bridged the distance between them. _She bridged the distance_. Finally. How could she not?

Automatically his eyes closed at the feel of her lips. _Soft_.

Brennan allowed her own eyes to drift shut, allowing her to better register the feel of his lips against hers. Hesitantly, her tongue glided across his bottom lip and he gasped softly, giving her access to the inside of his mouth.

She was careful, exploring him gently, letting the taste of him run like wine through her veins. And he let her, opening his mouth and letting her take everything she wanted. But when she started slowly pulling back, Booth realized that it wasn't enough.

_More. _He moved forward, keeping their lips together, hands shooting up to cup her face. _Moremoremore_.

His hands kept her head still as he moved his mouth against hers; it was his turn to explore _her_ and he was greedy. Her tongue rasped against his and they both groaned. _So good_. The taste of his cherry pie and her chocolate milkshake.

She looked at him, wide-eyed and vulnerable. His hands still cupped her face and his thumbs stroked against her skin.

"Booth …"

"You don't have to say anything, Bones," he reassured softly. "The way I …"

"I do," she whispered hoarsely, one hand closing over one of his as she turned her head and pressed her lips to the palm resting against her cheek. "I do. Because I don't ever want you to think that _I_ don't feel it too."

* * *

_**p.s. It seems that a real kiss might happen real soon, and if it does, I think this story might end. So if you have any ideas you wanna throw out there, do so before April 9th! **_


	16. Hold Me Together

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: As promised, Kissing You update. The angst monster is on the rampage, lol! If you're reading, I hope you let me know what you think because I'm not a very angsty person and would like to know how this is coming across. Enjoy!

**Hold Me Together  


* * *

**

Booth sat up groggily, rubbing tired eyes.

"Bones?" he called out into the dimly lit room. At the silence he thought maybe she'd finally gone to bed and was surprised she hadn't stirred him awake and sent him to bed as well.

The pictures, evidence, and general wreckage of their latest case littered the fancy hotel room and he walked tiredly to the big bay window, resting his forehead on the cool glass.

This case was killing her. He almost wished they'd had an active case when she got that call from the Miami chief of police. Maybe if they had an active investigation, she would have been able to say no, but they hadn't. So when she was asked to identify a horrifying number of remains a diver had stumbled upon off a sunny South Florida beach, she, of course, had said yes.

When she called and told him what she was discovering, Booth had gotten on the first flight to Miami after convincing his boss the FBI should take over the case. That he'd been able to do so had been a minor miracle, but the weight of over a hundred successfully closed investigations was significant, and after all, it was _his _partner doing the identifications.

But regardless, he would have still flown down because no way was he letting her deal with this shit alone. Not after the way her voice had almost cracked when she told him: every remain belonged to a child. So far they'd found eleven of them and they had gotten IDs for four, every single one in the foster care system.

With every ID, he could see her struggling to remain detached, the cool, rational scientist she was so comfortable with, but Booth was almost sure he'd heard her sobbing last night. Her eyes looked haunted and he had no idea how to help her. It didn't help that they had no fucking clue who was responsible …

A flash of white caught his eye and his mind blanked. He could see the beach- eerily beautiful in the moonlight- from the window and the lone figure wading into the waves and he knew.

Trying to keep his panic down, he burst into her bedroom. Whirling around, he ran barefoot out of the hotel room.

"Bones!" His heart was pounding madly as he yelled her name over the crashing waves. "What … Jesus … Bones … what are you doing?"

She was only about waist-deep, the white nightgown he'd seen her change into earlier billowing around her.

"I couldn't sleep," Brennan answered, but when she didn't move, Booth waded into the water, waves lapping at him and helping his forward movement.

"Bones," he pleaded, voice raw. "Talk to me."

"I've been having nightmares," she confessed, the ocean waves or maybe simple inevitability sending her into his arms. "I couldn't face another one tonight."

"Jesus," Booth repeated, digging his toes into the cool sand and bracing himself as he caught her firmly, holding them both steady amid the roiling waves. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She gave a tiny shrug, tucking her head under his chin, letting the ocean breeze and him soothe her.

"You scared the crap out of me," he confessed shakily, helplessly burying his face in the slightly wavy locks of her hair.

"Why?" she asked curiously, raising her head to look at him.

"I saw you from the window," he explained, feeling slightly foolish at his panic attack. "You were just walking inside the water and it's dark … and I … I freaked." Cupping her face with one hand, Booth said softly, "This is dangerous, Bones … the waves are stronger at night, you never know what can …"

"I'm sorry I scared you," she whispered contritely. "You were sleeping, I didn't want to wake you … I just needed …" Her voice faded off and then she choked out, "This case is breaking me."

Booth gasped at the naked pain in her voice, holding her face in his damp hands and brushing her lips softly. "Oh baby, I hate it when you're hurting."

A little sobbing sound escaped her lips and she cupped one hand around his nape, pressing hard against his lips. Instantly, Booth wrapped an arm around her waist, right over the water and palmed the back of her head with his free hand.

She kissed him desperately, as if he could heal every wound inside her soul and he was willing to do anything to make that happen. Anything to show her that no matter how bad things got, she wouldn't break and even if she did, he would still be right there.

Holding her. Kissing her. Always.

It wasn't gentle, it was desperate, but it was the most honest thing they had ever communicated to each other.

A wave crashed over them, making them lose their footing and taking them under. On a gasp, they resurfaced and Brennan locked her arms and legs around him, trailing her lips along his jaw and tasting the salty seawater on his skin. Booth turned his head slightly and captured her lips again, hands spanning her waist as he carried her back to the edge of the water.

Dropping to his knees with her, he never stopped kissing her, even as he rested his body over hers on the sandy edge. His fingers tangled in her now soaking wet and sandy hair, his lips moving down her throat and up to her lips over and over again. It wasn't sexual, it was just adoration, pouring over her like the gentle sea spray of the ocean.

She stroked his face with her fingertips, crystalline eyes looking up at him in the moonlight.

"Booth …"

"Don't hurt, baby," he whispered, gently running his lips over her face. "Please, don't hurt."

"I know you'll pull me back when it gets too bad." Brennan's eyes were solemn on his, fingers brushing tenderly over kiss-swollen lips. "I know you'll hold me together if I fall apart."

* * *

_**p.s. I have decided there will be 4 more chapters to this, the last one being after the 100th airs! So if you have ideas for the last 3 kisses, I'd love to hear them. :)**_


	17. Funnel Cake Magic

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: This is an amalgamation of various thoughts I've gotten so thanks so much to everyone who has commented with their thoughts and ideas! This is the longest kiss written yet, but I was having too much fun to stop. Pure fluffy BB to balance out the angst! Enjoy!

**Funnel Cake Magic  
**

* * *

"Dad, I want a funnel cake!"

"You got it, buddy," he agreed, turning smiling eyes on his partner. "Bones?"

"Booth, do you know how unhealthy those things are?" she protested automatically. "The grease alone is …"

Groans erupted around her, interrupting her quickly and two pairs of brown eyes turned ruthlessly on her.

"But Boooones," Parker wailed theatrically. "Funnel cakes are delicious!"

"Yeah, Bones," Booth encouraged shamelessly, swinging a careless arm around her. "They are warm and sugary and tasty … you know you want one!"

She tried to stay strong, but one Booth was hard enough to resist, two of them working together was impossible.

"Fine," she gave in. "But someone has to share with me because I can't eat a whole one by myself."

"I want my own," Parker immediately piped in, worried about a sudden reduction in his funnel cake portion.

"That's fine, greedy one," Booth laughed, heading towards the funnel cake stand. "I'll share with Bones."

Five minutes later, Parker had the funnel cake of his dreams with nearly every topping available.

"I'm going to get a table, Dad," he announced, carrying his tasty treat to one of the nearby wooden picnic tables while Brennan considered her topping options.

"So what'll be, Bones?" Booth asked, a grin hitting his lips at the concentrated look on her face. God, if that was how much focus she gave to picking out dessert toppings, he shuddered to think of …

"Well, I feel like I should defer to you on this decision," Brennan's voice startled him out of his not so innocent thoughts. "Is there a particularly pleasing combination of toppings?"

"Um … well, powder sugar," he said to the teenager taking their order, but he couldn't take his eyes off his partner. "Chocolate sauce," Booth decided and her eyes lit up, making his throat feel dry.

"And, uhh … whipped cream," he finished, voice going slightly husky without his permission.

"I would like one of those cherries, please," Brennan piped in and it was clear by her excited tone that she had forgotten all about the perils of fried dough.

Booth carried the funnel cake to the table where Parker was happily digging into his own.

"We don't have utensils," Brennan pointed out.

"You eat it with your hands, Bones," Booth instructed, tearing off a piece and popping it in his mouth.

Brennan gave him a dubious look, but swiped a finger through the mountain of whipped cream and tasted the sweet topping.

She made a tiny sound of enjoyment, licking the whipped cream off and that's when Booth realized maybe he shouldn't have been so eager to feed her funnel cake. He watched mesmerized as she dug into it with enthusiasm, swiping her tongue over her lips and licking her fingers clean every time she brought a piece to her mouth.

"Dad, you're not eating!" Parker accused, bringing Booth out of his daze with a rueful smile.

"Well, Parker," he said teasingly. "I think Bones here is starting to regret she has to share this with me."

"What? Of course not," Brennan protested. Breaking off a piece, she brought it to his lips, showing her willingness to share.

Booth's eyes widened slightly, but he opened his mouth and she fed him the sugary piece of dough. Her thumb dragged slightly, cleaning the whipped cream on his bottom lip and he couldn't help letting the tip of his tongue reach out and quickly touch her finger.

"It really is very good," she said, eyes glued to his mouth, bringing back her hand and unconsciously sucking on the finger he had just delicately licked.

_Yes. Yes, it is. _

"I'm thirsty," Parker announced, his funnel cake almost completely devoured and now impatient to explore the bustling fair.

Booth cleared his throat and focused on his son. "And messy," he laughed, taking in Parker's face. "Come on, let's clean you up and get you something to drink."

Happily, Parker scrambled to throw away his plate and Booth rose from the bench as well. "You want some water, Bones?"

"Yes, please," she said, giving him a happy smile. "This is so delicious."

Oh, _you_ are so delicious, he almost retorted, pressing his lips together to keep the words in.

Leaning down to her, Booth murmured, "I'll be right back." Before he could talk himself out of it, he touched his tongue to the corner of her mouth, swiping at the dusting of powder sugar there. "Save me some."

She gasped slightly, but he was already straightening, extending a hand to grip Parker's who was heading back in an excited rush.

For the next two hours, they allowed Parker to drag them from ride to ride. When the little boy requested to go on the ferris wheel, Booth knew it was because he was finally starting to wind down.

Extending his arm along the back of the colorful passenger car, Parker securely between them, Booth played with the ends of Brennan's ponytail, listening to her answering his son's question about the invention of the ride. _How did she know this kind of stuff?_

"The original Ferris wheel was constructed by George Gale Ferris, Jr." she explained as the machine whirled around. "It was built for the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago in an attempt to surpass the Eiffel Tower, which had caused quite the sensation at the 1889 World's Fair in Paris."

"Wow, Bones, you know everything," Parker breathed, fairly impressed and Brennan gave him a dazzling smile.

Booth chuckled, fingertips slightly stroking up and down her nape, almost absently. Her head fell back slightly and automatically he applied a little bit of pressure. When a tiny sigh of pleasure escaped her lips, he knew she was probably as tired as Parker since she had approached the fair with the same excitement his son had. For the past two hours, she had been all wide-eyed excitement and breathless laughter and Booth didn't know how it was possible, but he had fallen even more in love with her.

On the way out, a tired Parker in his arms, they passed a shooting booth, its loudmouth attendant peddling its variety of prizes and Brennan's eyes, of course, immediately strayed to it. He had to suppress a smirk at her fascination with all things gun-related. Parker also raised his head from his father's shoulder in curiosity and Booth asked, "You want a stuffed animal?"

Parker shot him a look of pure disdain and Booth laughed, turning to his partner, "How about you, Bones?" He wiggled his eyebrows and she gave him the most adorable smile.

"Sure," she answered. "Parker, you want to come help me pick one out?"

Parker scrambled out of Booth's arms as they approached the vendor who gave them a toothy smile.

"How about the blue lion, Bones?" Parker suggested, pointing to the biggest stuffed animal, hanging on the highest shelf.

"Well, no combination of genes would ever produce a blue lion," Brennan pointed out, but she gave the animal a critical eye. "But it's a fine choice." She turned to her partner with twinkling eyes. "I would like that one, Booth."

"You got it," he answered with a cocky grin, handing the man the money and taking the air rifle.

"Dude, you gotta be perfect to get the blue lion," he warned on a scoff, leaning back with a satisfied smirk.

"Buddy, you might as well get it down now," Booth shot back, quickly wiping the smirk from the man's face as he shot every ducky, bunny, and fox on the little rotating wheel.

"Damn," the attendant breathed, handing Brennan her lion while Parker launched himself at Booth.

"Whoa, Dad, you didn't even miss one!"

"Very impressive, Agent Booth," Brennan murmured, voice low and his eyes darkened as he put one hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the parking lot.

"Thanks, Bones," he said softly.

He should have driven her home, but instead he drove to his place. She dropped her purse on his table, set the grinning blue lion on the couch, and headed for the kitchen while he put Parker to bed.

"He was tired, huh?" Brennan said when Booth joined her in the kitchen a few minutes later.

"Yep, out like a light," he chuckled, walking to the fridge and placing the photo booth pictures they'd taken at the fair on the door, the baseball-shaped magnet holding it in place.

Getting a pitcher of water, he opened one of the kitchen cabinets and poured himself a huge glass. Booth drank steadily, watching her walk to the fridge and study the pictures. He knew what she was seeing: happiness, love, intimacy. Everything right there in black and white.

Walking behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging softly.

"Thank-you, Booth," she said, relaxing under his hands. "For inviting me to the fair with you and Parker."

"Thank-you for coming," he replied gently, carefully rolling down and pocketing her hair-tie, letting the silky waves fall into his hands. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yes," Brennan answered softly, sighing as his fingers applied pressure on her scalp, light and sensual. "Very much so."

"I love to see you happy," he whispered, head lowering, lips skimming, butterfly-light, against the side of her neck. "I love making you happy."

She turned to face him, the strands of her hair sliding through his fingers.

"You do." Her palms rested on his chest and his heart raced wildly under her hands. "Do I make _you_ happy?"

The question was absolutely serious and he circled his arms around her waist without thought, bringing her close.

"Yes," he breathed earnestly against her lips, pressing a tiny kiss on the corner of her mouth. "Absolutely yes."

She smiled brilliantly, hands moving up to circle his neck, breath quickening as his lips lowered slowly to hers. Impatiently, Brennan crossed the last millimeter of distance, unable to wait anymore. His mouth opened immediately and his arms tightened their hold around her waist, lifting her easily.

Long legs locked around him and he whirled around, walking until they hit a wall. Something rattled, maybe a picture frame, maybe something else, but he didn't care, his entire world reduced to the taste of her on his tongue. Her own was busy inside his mouth, raking across his teeth, feverishly tasting him as well. She glided the tip of her tongue across the roof of his mouth and he moaned, head spinning as he pressed his mouth even harder against hers. Lack of oxygen was becoming a problem, but they couldn't seem to tear their mouths apart to inhale some much needed air.

"Wow," Brennan finally panted, gasping in air as if she had been drowning and had miraculously broken through the surface of the water.

"Damn, Bones," Booth agreed breathlessly, dropping his head to her shoulder on an uncontrollable smile. "So ridiculously amazing."

He peppered kisses up the side of her neck and back to her mouth. "God, I've been waiting so long to kiss you again." Her lips opened under his and that was all the answer he needed; she'd been waiting too.

Maybe it was the carefree, flirtatious atmosphere of the last few hours, but it seemed impossible now to imagine that this night could have ended any other way. From the moment her thumb swiped across his bottom lip and he'd been unable to do anything other than touch his tongue against it in the most fleeting caress possible, they'd _both_ known.

There was no other way to end the night but in each other's arms.


	18. Where You Belong

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: As promised, smutty kiss.

**Where You Belong  
**

* * *

Angela looked at the two of them- sprawled and relaxed, side to side on her floor, backs resting against the couch- and practically rubbed her hands together.

"Okay, kids, I am all partied out," she announced, affecting a quite believable sleepy tone. "I'm going to bed and I called you a cab, so just make sure to lock the door when you leave, Bren."

"I guess we're the last ones to leave, huh?" Booth said a tad hazily, feeling the effects of Angela's drinking games_ just_ a little bit.

"Yep," Angela said cheerfully, debating whether she should call the cab company and tell them she needed that taxi in two hours, instead of one. Dimming the lights as much as she dared without arousing suspicion, Angela decided that an hour was plenty. If they were still sitting there in one hour without so much as one touch, they were hopeless. "Nite."

"Mmm … this was nice," he acknowledged once they were alone, head dropping to his partner's shoulder.

"You didn't want to come," Brennan reminded him.

At the end of the case, Angela had announced that they were going to celebrate at her place with margaritas and drinking games. Booth had grumbled about tiredness and drinking on a weekday, but after a steely glance from Angela, Brennan knew that no one was going to escape. Trying to move the inevitable along, she'd given her partner the sad, puppy-dog look she'd learned from _him_ and reminded him that he was part of the team.

"Yeah, well, after a couple of drinks—" he raised his head a little and smiled "—things start to look a lot rosier."

"Are you intoxicated?" she wondered, running her eyes a little heatedly over him without even realizing it. He had gone home to change before picking her up and driving them to Angela's and he looked … _sexy_ in a casual T-shirt and dark-washed jeans.

"Nah, just a little tipsy," he said truthfully, shooting her his 100-watt smile again. "It's quite a nice buzz. How about you … you drunk?"

"A little light-headed," Brennan admitted, although she suspected his proximity had something to do with that. "But certainly not drunk."

"No?" Booth couldn't stop smiling, face resting on her shoulder casually. "Okay … name all the bones in the body … in alphabetical order."

"Booth …" she grinned at his silliness and inhaled a deep breath of his delicious scent. "I could be so intoxicated as to not remember my own name and I would _still_ be able to answer that question."

"Of course you would," he chuckled, utterly appreciating everything that was her. "God, that is sexy."

"You really think so?" she asked in surprise, breath catching in her throat at the feel of his lips ghosting over the skin of her shoulder as he spoke. After the warmth of a few margaritas had spread, Brennan had taken off her sweater, much more comfortable in her tank top. But suddenly, even the strappy top was starting to feel like too much clothing; unfortunately the only thing underneath was her bra, so removing it didn't seem to be a viable option.

"Yeah, I think so," Booth breathed, he didn't even think of lying. "I don't even know how, but all that squintiness hits me like a damn shot of whiskey." Recklessly, his lips pressed against her skin as he explained, "Hot and straight to the gut."

"Squintiness?" Instinctively, her head tilted a little to the side, an unconscious invitation for his lips to move up to her neck.

"Yeah, you know—" Booth had shifted even closer to her without being aware of it and his breath ghosted over her collarbone as he murmured in a low voice—"the likelihood of a gunshot wound to the scapula appears to be quite high since the striations confirm …"

"Booth …" she protested, a tiny hint of hurt in her voice. "You're making fun of me."

"No, I'm not," he whispered, lips feathering the base of her throat. "I'm dead serious."

"I don't believe you," Brennan accused, feeling strangely vulnerable at the undeniable arousal he was creating with his soft lips.

"Shall I prove it to you?" Without waiting for an answer, Booth picked up her hand and placed it high on his jean-clad thigh. "Talk squinty to me."

"W-what?" He sounded completely serious and she was utterly bewildered.

"Anything you want," Booth said softly, dropping tiny, tiny kisses on the underside of her jaw. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Um … Emile Durkheim was one of the first anthropologists to combine sociological theory with empirical social research," Brennan blurted out, the recent biography she read on the French sociologist popping into her mind. "He … um … he postulated the theory of collective effervescence and …" Her voice faded at his almost inaudible moan and she swallowed. "Booth?"

"More," he demanded silkily and her hand on his thigh shifted a few inches, touching the growing bulge in his pants.

"It makes no rational sense for your arousal to be triggered by vocabulary that is neither risqué nor sexually crude," Brennan gasped, feeling him grow harder and harder under her hand with every word. "What is typically considered 'dirty talk' has much more of a causal connection since the brain processes the information …"

"There," he breathed heavily. "_That's_ what gets me. That tone, that voice, that squinty way of saying something that anyone else would say in half as many words." His words landed hot against her throat, and she knew he wasn't lying. "You're right. It makes no sense, but when you talk like that it's fucking sexy."

"But … I talk like that all the time," her voice was clearly startled.

"I know," Booth panted, using his teeth now to scrape delicately over her skin. "It's a problem."

"Oh." Brennan's head fell back against the couch, exposing the full length of her throat and his mouth opened ravenously on her. "How … how do you deal … I mean … how …?"

"How do you think?" Booth was certain she was going to guess right, but he didn't care. And it wasn't even the alcohol because he wasn't even drunk. His slight buzz had relaxed him enough to rest his head on her shoulder and then her ridiculously soft skin and head-spinning scent had done the rest.

And he knew she wasn't drunk either. He knew she was going to remember every word and every touch. She was going to remember that he had his lips all over her. She was going to remember that he basically told her he jerked off thinking about her.

"Masturbation?" she ventured in a hoarse murmur.

"Yeah." Her hand pressed down against his erection and he groaned, "Yeah, Bones. That's how I get through my day."

"I think about you too," Brennan confessed in a rush. "I think about you all the time."

"What do you think about?" he husked out, bucking a little into her hand, which had started a nice rotating motion.

"What it would feel like if you touched me," she answered so low that he barely heard her.

Shifting slightly, he snuck one hand under her tank top, resting his palm on her bare stomach. "Like this?"

"Lower." It was an answer and a whisper-soft request at the same time and he didn't need to be asked again. Unsnapping her jeans, he slid his hand inside her panties and stroked two fingers right into her.

"Oh, Bones," he gasped into the side of her neck, sliding knuckle deep into her tight channel. "You are … god, baby, so wet." With his free hand, he pulled down first one strap and then the other, lowering her tank top to around her waist. Her breathing was heavy and her breasts strained to escape from the silky confines of her bra.

"So pretty," Booth sighed in awe, placing deep, sucking kisses all over the satiny flesh that spilled so beautifully out of its prison. "Tell me how it feels. I want to make you feel good. Better than you ever imagined."

"You are. Oh, god, Booth, it feels amazing." Her hand started rubbing him faster, matching the rhythm of his fingers inside her body and his harsh breathing harmonized with her panting breaths.

Using his free hand, he cupped her nape, lifting her head off the couch. She looked at him with glazed eyes and he skated his fingers up, lacing them through her soft, wavy hair.

"You are going to make me come," she whispered, watching mesmerized as his lips lowered to hers.

"You too," he replied right before slanting his mouth down and tasting the only thing he'd truly been hungry for in the last few years.

His tongue plunged inside her mouth, just like his long fingers plunged inside her body and she came in a rush around his fingers, her cries of relief pouring into his mouth. When she sucked the tip of his tongue and squeezed, he gave in too, coming wetly inside his jeans in the kind of orgasm that should have been impossible to have while still being fully clothed.

Brennan's arms went around him and, removing his hand from her panties, Booth circled her waist, crushing her against his chest. He lost track of time, kissing her senseless again and again. She lost the ability to do anything else other than melt into him, kiss after kiss.

"What is the probability that Angela will wake up tomorrow to find us making out on her floor?" Booth asked, combing his fingers through her hair and nipping teasingly at her mouth.

"Well, if she does, I don't think she'll be too surprised," Brennan replied.

"Yeah, she thought she was so slick dimming the lights," he snorted, carefully raising her straps back into place and snapping her jeans close. "Ten will get you twenty that the cab she called for us will take its sweet time getting here."

"We don't have to wait," Brennan pointed out. "I'm perfectly sober, I can drive us home."

"You're just trying to get your hands on my SUV," Booth accurately noted.

"Maybe," she gave him a dazzling smile and got up from the floor, extending her hands to him. "But it doesn't make my suggestion any less valid. I can drive, therefore, there's no need for us to wait. We can go home now."

Booth clasped her hands and pushed up. Grabbing his keys from the back pocket of his jeans, he jangled them pensively. "Whose home?"

"Well … if you hand those keys over in the next five seconds, you can pick," Brennan suggested, extending her hand, palm up. They dropped in her hand with a clink and she grinned.

In a flash, he had his arms around her, face buried in her hair.

"Mine," he picked on a soft growl, inhaling her scent deeply in satisfaction. "That's where I want you. In my house, in my bed, in my arms."


	19. Always One More Kiss

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

A/n: **Spoilers for the 100th episode. Don't read if you haven't watched and don't want to be spoiled!**

Thank-you so much to everyone who reviewed the last update of MBU and told me how much they loved the 100th. I was so excited to see that there were so many others out there that loved it just like I did! And we have reached the holy grail, haven't we? Not one, but two real BB kisses! I will wrap up this story with one final chapter after this that looks to the future. Enjoy!

**Always One More Kiss  


* * *

**

The first time he kissed her, he actually forgot everything, including his own name.

Dear god in heaven, but she tasted like … _Jesus_, like nothing he had ever tasted before. Like magic. Like fate. Like the one thing he would gamble on over and over again, no matter how many times he lost.

Even the ocean of tequila couldn't drown out the taste of her or dull the memory he had been trying to forget for over five years.

The first tentative press of his lips on hers had been nothing short of electrifying and then she opened her mouth on his and even electricity couldn't compete with magic.

Magic and the most outrageous desire he could ever remember; it had left him spinning. _She _had left him spinning. He had been ready to swallow her whole right on that rainy sidewalk.

And he had spent over five years dreading and dreaming of the next time. Because there had to _be_ a next time … fate wouldn't allow otherwise.

Maybe that's why he'd panicked like a little girl that Christmas when she told him of Caroline's blackmail. He had felt like a stuttering idiot afterwards, painfully self-conscious of one federal prosecutor standing right there the entire time while he struggled not to open his mouth and devour his partner in one greedy bite.

But now, here they were: no prosecutor, no mistletoe, no tequila. Nothing but him and her and the irresistible impulse to roll the dice. Because, god help them all, Sweets was right, this stalemate had to end. Five years was long enough and some things couldn't be held back anymore.

_He_ couldn't hold back anymore.

"I believe in giving this a chance," Booth confessed and almost as if he couldn't believe he'd finally said the words out loud, he added, "Look, I want to give this a shot."

"You mean us?" He nodded and it was almost like she couldn't believe he had said it either. Her mind had panicked even as she voiced the first thing that came to her mind. "No, the FBI won't let us work together as a …"

"Don't do that …" He had let her hide before, behind her science and her rationality, but he wasn't willing to let her hide now behind freaking FBI policy. "That is no reason …"

And grabbing her waist, he slammed her against him, cutting off her excuses and his—all the ones they'd both been making for years—with the crush of his lips.

She gasped into his mouth; one touch sent her reeling. He tasted like she remembered. Not from Christmas-she had been too busy counting steamboats in her mind to process much of anything that day. But from _that_ night. That night when kissing him had felt like the most wonderful, incredible thing she had ever experienced.

She had felt giddy after, as if she had inhaled some intoxicating narcotic. But on _this_ night, she felt terrified. His lips, warm and soft, were the purest temptation, urging her to give in, to accept all the things she had been denying.

And she wanted to, god, how she wanted. For a second, the image overwhelmed and beckoned; she would throw her arms around him and make sure that this time they would both be getting into the same cab.

_Yes, yes, yes._ Except … last time had been a disaster. She struck him, he'd mocked her viciously. The internal struggle was tearing her apart, but in the end, what she wanted didn't matter. _He_ was all that mattered, because now, six years later, he was everything she needed and nothing she could have.

"No!" She wrenched her lips away and wanted to cry. "No."

His words devastated her. He knew. From the beginning he knew.

The tears rolled down her face as _she_ devastated _him_. Brennan almost wanted to tell him whatever he wished to hear just to erase that look from his eyes. But she couldn't, she _couldn't_ because _someone_ had to protect him.

If she just protected him now, he would be all right; he would move on, he said it himself. And it felt like she won the battle and lost the war.

_Thirty, forty, fifty years. _

For months, those numbers haunted her. Eventually, he would find someone who would have the right to make him happy for the next thirty or forty or fifty years. And that someone wouldn't be her.

_It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair_, a voice shouted, gaining volume every day. _It should be her_.

But she made her choice, hadn't she?

Every day she reminded herself of that and every night she dreamed about one more kiss. Always one more kiss.

* * *

--

_**So? He has finally kissed her for real, was it what you were expecting? Personally, I thought the kiss in the past was hot, hot and the one in the present just heart-breaking! What did you think? I wanna know! :)**_


	20. Kiss Me Always

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones.

A/n: Warning: possible speculation for the finale and spoilers for previous episodes, so if you haven't watched, turn away now! Not that I even dream that the finale will go like this, because I really don't think it will, but I kinda like this as an ending for this story!

**Kiss Me Always  


* * *

**

_She looked at him through half lidded eyes, head falling back against the door in anticipation._

"_I want to kiss you more than I want my next breath, but I've kissed you three times now and not once has it ended the way it's supposed to," he whispered, breath ghosting across her parted lips. "So I'm done kissing you, Bones."_

_Her heart hammered, stomach clenching as he stepped away and reached behind her to open her door. He seemed to be taking all the air with him and Brennan watched him walk into the hallway with something close to panic. _

_Taking only a few steps, he turned, piercing her with burning brown eyes. "The next time, it'll have to be you kissing me and you'd better be sure, Bones, because the second you touch me—" His voice went low and steely. "The second I taste you again … you're mine."_

_And he was gone. _

**--x--**

He never brought it up again. It was like it'd never happened, but week after week she tortured herself with those words, with the danger behind them … with the alluring promise of them. They ruined every single date she went on and she really hoped they were ruining his damn dates as well.

The first time she nearly gave in to them was after finding out about his date with one annoyingly beautiful marine biologist. The woman's features were nearly as symmetrical as Booth's and there was no way to compartmentalize the distasteful feeling she got just from thinking about it. And she had hideous taste in ties, Brennan thought. That one flaw was nearly unforgivable.

Her fingers had itched to yank on that damn tie and, metaphorically-speaking, kiss the life out of him and remind him that _he_ belonged to _her_. But as soon as the thought materialized she felt almost ashamed. She had no right, _she_ had said no and he should be happy. God, he deserved to be happy. But when he stopped seeing her, Brennan couldn't deny that the pressure which had been squeezing her heart had suddenly lessened.

After that, she started thinking about it all the time. _Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him._ The words seemed to be playing on a loop inside her head.

During the Gravedigger's trial, the urge to wrap herself around him and imprint his scent on her skin was nearly irresistible. It had been impossible not to remember her absolute faith in him. Not once during those horrendous hours had she considered giving up, because she knew, she _knew_ that _he_ would _never_ give up. Her nightmares nearly propelled her straight into his arms, but the out of control reaction scared her. For so many years she had worked to make sure there was never anyone to need and suddenly needing him was no longer a matter of choice. It just _was_. Like a damn fact, like one of the scientific certainties she so adored.

Brennan thought she might break when the possibility of spending an entire year apart stretched before them like an endless chasm. The urge to run was nearly irresistible. Ancient remains, hundreds of years old, instead of ten-year old boys with adorable smiles. Ancient remains couldn't haunt you the way innocent young victims did. The possibility pulled and beckoned and she knew what it would be, it would be running, plain and simple. From these feelings she could barely handle, from _him_.

But in the end, she couldn't leave; it was illogical to do so. She looked forward to seeing her partner every single day, why would she purposely spend an entire year away from him? She had run once, Brennan remembered, but those six weeks in Guatemala had only made her more desperate for him. What the hell made her think that stretching that time frame to a year would yield any different results?

Brennan knew he had his own choice to make and one night she couldn't help herself from trying to influence that decision. Maybe it wasn't fair, since she had been the one to consider running first, after all, but maintaining her distance was no longer an option.

"Don't leave," she asked him softly, sitting across that diner table, unable to help herself anymore.

"It would only be a year," Booth answered just as softly and she had nearly crossed the space between them and erased any thoughts of leaving from his mind. But it felt like coercion, she couldn't kiss him simply to keep him here; the next time she kissed him had to be because she was sure, he'd said that himself.

"Doesn't matter," Brennan replied, hoping stark honesty would be enough to keep him. "I'll miss you." Voice soft, vulnerability shimmering around her, she repeated, "Don't leave."

And when he couldn't even bring himself to pack, Booth knew he wasn't going anywhere. Why would he? His son, his partner, his job were all here and running away wasn't going to solve anything. He was still going to be waiting on the woman he couldn't help but love.

Everything is changing, she had said in that lost voice that always got to him and even as he tried to disagree, he knew it was true. How could it not be? She was still his partner, yes, but she was so much more than that and now she knew it; hell, everyone knew it.

Nothing to hide and nowhere to run. It was all out there now and it was her turn to make a decision. Holy hell, he sure hoped it was the right decision, the one that would send her straight to him and not to the other side of the world.

He knew, because he damn well knew her, just how close she'd come to running to those ancient remains. And to be honest, he'd come close too, a tiny part of him wondering if maybe a year away from her would somehow lessen the desperate yearning he could barely contain anymore.

But in the end he couldn't run anymore than she could and so here they were, still dancing around each other, still pretending nothing had changed; even when everything had.

With a tired sigh, Booth closed his eyes, resting his head back against the couch. The unexpected knock on the door made him jump slightly. He almost wanted to ignore the sound, but he knew the only person who knocked on his door at nearly midnight was the one person he couldn't ignore.

"Bones," he said softly, opening the door.

"I couldn't sleep," she declared, sweeping inside.

When she took off her coat, his eyes nearly crossed. She most certainly looked like she had come straight from bed with her mussed up hair and silky pajamas. Tiny blue silk shorts and matching blue camisole and _oh my god_, she looked delicious and …

Her words registered and he frowned.

"Nightmares?" Booth asked softly, taking an automatic step towards her. It had been months since she'd confessed to having them and the memory still made his throat lock and his arms tingle with the urge to wrap them around her and promise her something absolutely ridiculous like the vanquishing of said nightmares. Of course, then he remembered that Temperance Brennan did not need a man to vanquish her nightmares and she'd be liable to kick his ass should he imply otherwise.

"No," Brennan answered quickly and he relaxed for a moment before she added, "You and your ultimatum."

"Wha-?" His eyes widened in shock. "I've never …"

In the blink of an eye, she had crossed the space between them, fisting his plain black tee in a forceful grip.

"I've made my decision," she declared calmly, ignoring the wild-eyed look on his face. "I'm going to kiss you now."

And immediately, it clicked.

"_The next time, it'll have to be you kissing me and you'd better be sure, Bones, because the second you touch me … you're mine."_

The words had come just a few weeks after that disastrous night leaving Sweets' office, during late-night paperwork at her apartment. And he had promised himself he wouldn't touch her again, not unless she was ready to give him what he needed, because he refused to torture himself with something that might never be his.

His brain stalled as she moved her head, but before she could touch her lips to his, his hands cupped around her face, stopping her from breaching that last minuscule gap.

"You can't change your mind," he warned in a low, nearly horse voice.

"Neither can you."

And they both closed the tiny distance; two minds blanking, two hearts racing wildly at the contact.

For a second, they were both outside a pool hall in the sparkling rain, but then his arms went around her waist, lifting her. When her legs wrapped around him, he moved to his bedroom; they were no longer in the past and they knew it because six years ago, they'd never gotten to this stage.

Clothes fluttered across the room, silky pajamas and comfortable sweatpants flying unceremoniously until there were only two naked, writhing bodies falling onto the bed.

"Booth!" she sobbed his name, both in pleasure and heart-wrenching relief. There had been times that having him like this seemed more dream than reality, times when she thought she might actually have to go the rest of her life without it.

Buried to the hilt inside her felt like a warm, soft dream and he stilled every muscle, afraid to move, afraid to wake up and shatter.

"Oh, god," he whispered, his voice barely audible against the side of her neck. "This feels unreal ... I'm going to wake up and you're gonna be gone … and I …"

"No," she soothed softly, pressing her lips over the slope of one shoulder and holding him tighter. "No, Booth, it's real. Look at me."

He raised his head to look down into her eyes, a swirling mixture of blue and green he would forever associate with blissfulness. Experimentally, he moved, wrenching gasps out of them both at the sensation.

"So long," Booth moaned softly, trying to keep his eyes from slipping shut. "I've been waiting so long for this, for you … _oh Bones, Bones, Bones_."

Her name dropped like a prayer from his lips, his body finally taking over and overriding the fears of the brain.

"Kiss me," she said, her heart overriding everything else for the second time that night. "Kiss me always."

* * *

-x-

**_p.s. Because I had so much fun with this in Breaking, tell me if you had a favorite kiss and hope you've enjoyed this conclusion! :)_**


End file.
